Code Blue
by laoisbabe
Summary: Unexpected events threaten to change the Reagan's lives forever when Frank is shot. The family try and cope while Danny investigates.  Slight CSI:NY crossover.
1. Chapter 1

_This is my first attempt at a Blue Bloods story. There is a slight CSI:NY crossover but it concentrates on Blue Bloods characters so I chose to post it here. Hope you like._

_Disclaimer: Regretfully, I do not own any of the characters. I'm just borrowing them for a while._

**Chapter 1**

Standing in his office on the eighth floor of One Police Plaza, surveying the city he loved, Frank Reagan was feeling decidedly unsettled. He couldn't put his finger on it, but there was something in the air and it perturbed him. He had noticed that his security detail was more edgy than usual lately, which did nothing to set him at ease. He pondered whether they knew something that he didn't. That very morning, when he was leaving his house, he noticed that Karl, one of his personal security guards, was being even more pernickety than usual, insisting that he escort Frank to the waiting car which was parked only feet away at the sidewalk. Usually, he would just wait for Frank by the car. Frank hated all the fuss. Security was considered another perk of his job, but Frank didn't see it that way. It was more of an inconvenience, but he never complained because he knew the men and women assigned to him were putting themselves in harm's way to keep him safe. So he made an extra effort to be always cordial and obliging towards them.

Now, he stood waiting in his office for Detective Melissa Baker to arrive. She was his personal assistant and the head of his security team, so he hoped she would help him get to the bottom of their erratic behaviour. He thought it was time they at least let him into the loop; after all, he was the boss.

As he waited, Frank's mind wandered to his cherished family. It gave him great comfort to know that at last things were finally getting back to some semblance of normality. He had only begun to deal with the loss of his beloved wife to cancer when his son, Joe, was killed in the line of duty. The double tragedies had taken their toll on him and his family. He still missed his wife and son every day, but at least his other kids seemed happy and were getting on with their lives while gradually getting over the loss of their mother and brother. His grandchildren were amazing and always managed to make him smile, no matter how miserable a day he might have had in work. Professionally, he was at the pinnacle of his career. He loved his job and took great pride in making a difference. If only he could find a way to side-step the politics that was part and parcel of the job, then it would be perfect. But he had long since resigned himself to the fact that being the New York City Police Commissioner came at a price and he, like all those who served before him, had to pay his dues.

Surveying the awakening city from his lofty position in One Police Plaza, he considered what this day would bring. With a heavy heart he looked to the grey horizon, knowing that out there somewhere people would get in trouble today, some would die and his officers would face untold risks as they went about their duties. But he also felt a surge of pride knowing that those same officers would be out there, protecting and serving, making his city one of the safest in the world.

Commissioner Reagan turned to his desk and noted with distain the pile of files that had been left for him. With a sigh, he sat down and opened the first of the files which needed to be reviewed. He checked his watch. It was 8.30 am. He had another few hours before he was scheduled to make his regular weekly appearance in front of the press on the steps of number One Police Plaza, plenty of time to make a dent in the pile of files in front of him.

One block away, Billy Chen sat by the window of a coffee house, fidgeting anxiously with the coffee cup in his hand and occasionally glancing at the open newspaper on the table in front of him. Outwardly, he looked like hundreds of other professional men who swarmed that particular area of the city. A gleam of perspiration coated his forehead despite the chill in the autumn air. He watched nervously as the regular hoards of uniformed police officers and blue and white NYPD cars passed by going about their business. Their presence made him slightly more nervous than usual. He wasn't normally the nervous type. Generally, he got on with the job at hand and got away clean. That was how he had earned a reputation for himself, as one of the best in his profession. Maybe it was because of his current location, in the heart of the city's legal district, but he had jitters for the first time in years. Jobs like this one didn't come along very often. This would be the biggest pay day of his life. It was to be his one big score and then he could retire and leave this precarious lifestyle behind forever. But it was also going to be the riskiest job of his career. His clients had made their wishes clear. They wanted the job done publicly, to humiliate the Police Department and the Mayor's office and in doing so, to make their point. It wouldn't get any more challenging than this for Chen. As he appeared to observe the activity around him, in his mind he was recounting his operational plan and his escape route. He ordered another coffee and settled in for a patient wait.

A block away on Park Row, Detective Melissa Baker knocked politely on the oak door before entering Commissioner Reagan's office. In her arms she carried yet another pile of blue-coloured files.

"Good morning, Sir," she said sounding sickeningly enthusiastic for that hour of the morning.

"Good morning, Baker," Frank replied, glancing up momentarily. "I see you come bearing more gifts."

"Personnel and commendation files for next month's ceremony, Sir," she said proficiently laying the files in a neat pile to his right.

Frank stopped what he was doing and turned to Detective Baker.

"Thank you, Baker. Maybe now would be a good time to tell me what's going on?" the Commissioner said purposefully.

"Sir?" Baker asked, pretty sure she knew what he meant but unsure whether it was worth worrying him.

"With Karl and the security detail," Frank replied, sounding a little exasperated. "They're very tense lately and it's driving me mad. Is there something going on that I should know about?" he asked, looking up over the rim of his glasses at her.

Baker sighed and shuffled nervously, mulling over the best way to tell him.

"Spit it out, Baker," Frank ordered, knowing his aide well enough to know when she was holding back.

"Well, Sir, it's only a rumour, something that some punk mentioned after he was collared on possession of stolen goods charges and well, there isn't really anything to back it up. Like I said, it's only a rumour, in fact it's probably nothing at all…..," she rambled on nervously.

"Ah, for crying out loud, Baker, spill!" Frank ordered.

"Okay, well, word on the street is that there's been a hit ordered….. a hit on you, Sir," Baker blurted out.

Frank paused momentarily, considering what she told him and then sighed loudly.

"A hit. Well, Baker, you'd think we'd all be used to those by now. How many threats is that this year so far?" he asked frivolously.

"Em, seven, I think," Baker replied.

"Seven, and none of them turned out to be a problem, did they?" he asked. Baker shook her head in response. "The usual precautions then, Baker. I still have a job to do," Frank told her.

Detective Baker hesitated beside him, before starting to leave the room, then she hesitated again and turned back towards him.

"Was there something else?" Frank asked.

"No, Sir. I mean yes, Sir. You will wear protection at all public appearances, won't you, Sir?" Baker asked.

"Excuse me?" Frank asked, feigning shock at her phraseology.

"Pro….your vest, Commissioner," Baker rephrased, a blush warming her cheeks.

"Like I said, Baker, the usual precautions, don't worry," Frank said with a kind smile, appreciating her concern and relishing her embarrassment. .

She smiled back at him, leaving him to his paperwork. As she closed the door behind her, she couldn't help but worry though. She had known about his threat for several days now, but there was little or no information getting to them. Security around the Commissioner had been tightened and was much more conspicuous. But today would be the Commissioner's first public appearance since they had been made aware of this latest threat. Baker was scheduled to meet with the protective team assigned to monitor threats involving the Commissioner in the next few minutes. She wanted to ensure that every member of the attending press was cleared and that no one would be on the podium or anywhere near the Commissioner without security clearance.

The hours passed quickly. Detective Baker took the Commissioner some coffee shortly before he was due to meet the press. The conference was no big deal as far as Frank was concerned. Since he had taken office, he had spoken to the press at least once a week. He never found it taxing as he was an accomplished orator and capable of answering any question put to him. As he sat there, sipping his coffee, Baker went to his closet and pulled out his ballistics vest and held it up.

"Sir, you said you'd wear it," she said crossly, disappointed to find that it was still hanging in the closet.

"You know I hate wearing that thing," Frank moaned, getting to his feet slowly, like a bold child. "So darn uncomfortable."

"Well, what happened to the 'usual precautions'?" Baker reminded him.

"Hmm," Reagan groaned, knowing she had a point.

"It will only be for twenty minutes, then you'll be up back here and you can take it off," she told him.

"Give it here," he said, taking it from her, knowing he wasn't going to win this argument.

He comfortably stripped down to his white t-shirt which he wore beneath his dress shirt and then put the vest on in front of her. It was heavy and cumbersome and was getting too tight for him, if the truth be told. Maybe it was time he lost those extra few pounds, he thought, as he re-buttoned his shirt. He turned his back to her and tucked his shirt into his trousers and smoothed out the creases. Then he retied his tie and pulled his suit jacket back on, before giving his chest a theatrical thump and smiling to her.

"Happy?" he said as he reached for his overcoat.

Baker smiled back and nodded in approval. It was fifty-five degrees outside and blustery, so Frank decided to wrap up warm, putting on his overcoat and placing his scarf around his neck.

"Are we good to go?" he then asked Baker.

"Ready when you are, Sir," she replied, leading the way and holding the door for him.

They rode the elevator to the ground floor, and as they emerged from the elevator into the lobby, Baker radioed the security detail to inform them that the Commissioner was on his way. She called in to check that the area was secure before allowing the Commissioner to continue out though the exit and into the open air of the plaza.

The square around Number One Police Plaza was buzzing with members of the press and members of the general public and tourists alike, curious to get a look at the New York City Police Commissioner. Blending in among them was one Billy Chen. He looked rather inconspicuous in his grey overcoat, spectacles and briefcase. He looked in no way out of place among the business people and lawyers who normally frequented the surrounding area. He stood by a CNN news truck which was parked among a row of other news trucks close to the temporary podium which had been erected on the steps of the building. His hand rested comfortably on his Sig Sauer pistol with attached silencer, which was strapped to his leg. He could reach it easily through the false pocket of his overcoat. To those around him, he appeared to be just a guy hanging around to catch a glimpse of the Commissioner, with his hands in his pockets to keep warm. Little did they know what was on his mind.

Commissioner Reagan emerged from the police headquarters bang on time as usual. He strode confidently towards the podium, his impressive frame always adding to his air of importance. A ripple of applause greeted him. The attending press corps appreciated the fact that he rarely left them waiting in the cold and if he did, he was bound to have good reason. He approached the podium with his security personnel either side of him. They stepped back slightly once he reached the podium. Joining him at the conference that morning was the Chief of Police of Queens District, James Hammond, who was present to give details of a major vice ring that had been smashed. Also present was Lieutenant Paul Chalmers of the Organized Crime Task Force, who was going to give the press an update on their success in dealing with the ongoing Triad war that had gripped the city of late. Reagan greeted them individually before saluting the press and getting down to the order of business.

Billy Chen slowly mingled and moved slightly closer to the podium as the Commissioner started speaking. He needed to get in front of the camera crews to ensure a clear, unobstructed shot but also had to ensure that he wasn't caught on camera. Surprisingly relaxed as the moment drew near, he slowly withdrew the pistol from his pocket. Thanks to the attached silencer, he managed to release a volley of shots in the direction of the podium before anyone in the crowd even noticed that there was anything amiss. He knew he had hit his target when he saw the expression change on his victim's face, his words cut short as he began to falter. Then as the crowd realised something was wrong, panic erupted and Chen melded in with the fleeing crowd, making good his escape, job done.

**_A/N - hope you like the first chapter. Let me know what you think...please..._**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

When Commissioner Reagan turned around to introduce the Queens' Chief of Police, his breath was suddenly snatched away and his speech stopped mid-sentence. He heard no shot, no sound. He just felt a sudden, excruciating pain erupt in his chest and found himself struggling to breathe. The startling impact sent him staggering backwards. Detective Baker immediately turned towards him, wondering why he had stopped and witnessed him falter. His bodyguard, Karl's, instincts were well-honed and he was the quickest to react, but by the time he reached the Commissioner, he was already sinking to the ground.

"Get down! Shooter!" Karl yelled while waving his arms to try and warn others. He recognised instantly what was happening and tried to spur his security counterparts into action.

As he rushed to the Commissioner, he saw Hammond, the Queens' Chief of Police, go down also. He bravely positioned his body between that of the Commissioner and the press because even though he could hear no shots, his experience told him that there was more than likely a gunman using a silencer in the crowd or in the buildings across the street. Sadly, this was to be his final act of heroism. He never knew what hit him as another silenced bullet meant for the Commissioner found the base of his skull. He suddenly slumped forward onto the ground beside the Commissioner, mortally wounded. When witnesses saw the blood spatter as Karl was shot, only then did they realise what was happening. Instinctively, those standing on the podium hit the ground in multiple acts of self-preservation. The onlookers and many of the press corps began to scatter. Detective Baker, however, stood up tall, her weapon trained on the fleeing crowd, attempting to identify where the shots had come from. There were one or two fearless news cameramen still filming, straining like vultures to get priceless footage of the injured Commissioner and his obviously deceased bodyguard. Baker desperately wanted to stop them out of respect for her colleagues, but she had more pressing things to worry about. Scanning the crowd, she couldn't identify the culprit. She shouted at uniformed officers to stop the crowd from leaving but knew it was a futile endeavour.

She holstered her weapon and turned her attention to the Commissioner as other officers rushed to the aid of Chief Hammond and Karl. Reagan was laying on his back, obviously struggling for air, his eyes wide open and brimming with terror. Breathing hard and adrenaline pumping, Baker knelt beside her boss and quickly opened his coat and ripped open his shirt and tie, expecting to see the bullet lodged in his ballistics vest. However, the sight of a hole through the vest horrified her. Blood was already forming a crescent as it seeped through. She hadn't expected to see blood.

"No, no…..damn it, no!" she cursed loudly as she pulled at the Velcro straps to try and remove the vest so she could tend to the wound beneath.

"The ambulance is on its way, Commissioner," she said, trying to reassure him.

Lieutenant Chalmers knelt down beside his Commissioner to see if he could help. He and Baker exchanged glances, sensing that the injury to their superior was grave. Neither could believe what had happened. Frank's eyes were filled with agony and something Baker had never seen him show before, fear. Having initially struggled to remove the vest, she finally managed to get it off him with a little help from Chalmers. They could now see clearly the extensive bleeding which already soaked the t-shirt he wore beneath his vest. Baker pressed firmly on the wound, forcing a groan from the injured man.

"Just hold on, Sir," she begged, as she continued to apply pressure to the wound on the left hand side of his chest.

Reagan suddenly began to cough and gag, spraying Baker's jacket with blood. Baker didn't flinch but knew she had to do something to keep him from drowning in his own blood. Chalmers helped her roll the Commissioner's considerable bulk onto his side, hoping that it would keep his uninjured lung clear and ease his breathing. All the while, Frank was slowly losing his grip on consciousness. As he rolled onto his side, his gaze met the vacant stare of his friend, Karl, who lay dead just feet away from him. Sadly, that disturbing image was the last sight he saw before the darkness claimed him and his pain vanished.

"Stay with me, Frank, come on, stay with me," Baker pleaded, using his Christian name for probably the first time since they'd met, all the while attempting to keep pressure on his wound.

Frank's eyes rolled in his head as he was wrenched from consciousness. Seeing this, Baker panicked slightly, fumbling to check his pulse with her bloodied fingers and was greatly relieved when she felt it, weak and all as it was.

Baker vocalised her thanks to the Lord when she heard the unmistakable sound of sirens as a procession of ambulances approached the scene. Looking around, she noticed that the majority of the crowd had now cleared and the only people in the immediate vicinity were police officers, a number of people, some of whom appeared to be injured and some die-hard reporters hoping to get the jump on the other networks.

The fleet of ambulances pulled up on the street and paramedics raced to tend to the victims. Baker stood up and gesticulated frantically to attract paramedics over towards them. One paramedic rushed over to them and immediately began treating the Commissioner. Another of his colleagues checked Karl for a pulse but could tell from his horrific head injury that he was already dead. He turned his attention to Hammond, who was conscious but in obvious pain. Baker stepped back and watched helplessly as the medic worked furiously on her boss. She started to feel a little shaky as the adrenaline began to dissipate and shock set in. Taking deep breaths, she tried to control her breathing. It didn't seem to be working and she swayed where she stood. Lieutenant Chalmers noticed and caught her before she toppled over.

"Woah, are you all right, Detective?" he asked, realising something was amiss.

"Just a little light-headed," she admitted, as the colour drained from her face.

"Looks like you've been wounded," Chalmers said quite calmly to her, pointing to the growing blood-stain on the sleeve of her beige suit.

She looked down and only then noticed the blood flowing down her arm, dripping freely onto the ground. When the realisation hit her, her knees went weak and Chalmers guided her gently to the ground. Another paramedic was quickly over to her aid. He removed her jacket, checked the wound and reassured her that she would be fine. Baker, however, was more concerned for the Commissioner's well-being than for her own and she strained to see what was going on a few feet away from her. Having been reassured that the Commissioner was being well looked after, she relaxed a little and allowed herself to be treated at the scene.

Predictably, a call had gone out over the police radio frequency of a shooting at One Police Plaza with multiple casualties and officers down. Television news stations were already preparing to report live from the scene. Detective Danny Reagan was travelling with his partner, Jackie Curatola, on their way to interview a suspect in an ongoing assault case when they first heard the call on their radio, calling all available units to the scene.

"Did she say One P. P.?" Danny asked, unsure whether he had heard correctly.

"Yeah, that's definitely what she said," Jackie replied, realising instantly why her partner was so worried.

"Damn. What day is it?" Danny asked, knowing that his father held open air press conferences on certain days.

"Tuesday," Jackie replied.

"Shit!" Danny cursed, knowing what that meant. "Change of plans," he said, hitting the siren and taking an abrupt u-turn back in the direction of Park Row where One Police Plaza was located.

Danny took out his cell and with one hand on the steering wheel, tried to call his father. It kept going straight to voice mail.

"Damn it!"

He tried Detective Baker's cell, knowing that she would never be very far from his father on a work day. The first time her phone rang out, unanswered. He tried it again and again. Eventually she answered.

"Detective Baker? It's Danny Reagan. What's going on down there? Is my dad with you?" he asked eagerly.

"Detective Reagan," Baker said, sounding a little shell-shocked.

There was a long pause. She didn't know what to say or how to say it.

"There was a shooting," she began nervously.

"Yeah, I know. I heard on the radio. Is my father okay?" Danny asked directly.

"Em, not really… he's been shot," Baker told him shakily. "He's on his way to the hospital."

"Ah, Christ! How bad is it?" Danny asked, his heart plummeting.

"I don't know. It looks bad. He took a round to the chest," she replied candidly.

"Oh, God," Danny muttered as his world started to disintegrate. "Which hospital?"

"I'm not sure, hold on," she replied. He could hear her asking someone in the background. "Mercy Hospital," she informed him.

"Thanks," Danny replied before turning to his partner. "He's been shot," he announced as he took a corner at full speed, the tires screeching as they fought to grip the road.

Danny drove like a lunatic in the direction of Mercy Hospital. This couldn't be happening, not again. It was only a couple of years since he had lost one of his brothers in the line of duty. His family was only starting to get back on their feet. And now this had to happen? He needed to be with his father. His mind turned to his family. They couldn't find out from the media. He had to call them.

Meanwhile, from her office at City Hall, not far from the scene of the shooting, ADA Erin Reagan-Boyle stood peering out of the window. Something was definitely going on down there, she assumed from the heightened activity and ambulances and police cars racing towards Park Row. She immediately started to worry. She turned on the TV in her office and flicked to a local news channel to see if she could find out what had happened. A female news reporter was doing a live and obviously unprepared stand-up in front of the news truck outside a municipal building. She was reporting that there was at least one dead and several injured at the scene of the shooting only moments ago. As the camera shot pulled back, Erin immediately recognised the building as Number One Police Plaza. Her heart sank, realising the implications. She knew her father had his press call this afternoon. She had plans to meet him for a bite of lunch once he was finished. She reached for her cell phone to call him and made several attempts at reaching him. Much to her frustration, it kept going straight to voice mail. She took a deep breath to calm herself before calling Melissa Baker's number. She got a busy signal. She decided the quickest way to find out what was going on was to go there herself. It was only a couple of blocks away. She grabbed her handbag and coat and hurried past her secretary, telling her that she was taking an early lunch.

Erin practically jogged the whole way to One Police Plaza. The closer she got, the more worried she became. One ambulance whizzed by her, lights flashing, sirens blaring, closely followed by a second. A police officer directed her away from the scene. She told him who she was, showed him her ID and, after some persuading, he eventually let her pass. There was chaos around the front of the police building. News trucks and camera crews were swarming the area out front as well as ambulance crews and SWAT vans. She pushed her way through and then spotted the podium with the NYPD seal lying on its side on the steps of the Police building. Then to her horror, she notice people standing around, looking shocked and staring down at a body covered by a sheet, which did little to hide the blood which was staining the concrete. Erin took a deep breath, trying to swallow down the rising bile in her throat.

_Please God, don't let it be him._

Suddenly, she felt a hand on her shoulder, which caused her to flinch.

"Sorry, Miss. This is a crime scene. You'll have to leave," the uniformed officer told her.

"My name is Erin Reagan-Boyle. I'm the Police Commissioner's daughter," she told him. Looking over towards the body, she asked, "Is that him?"

The officer turned and looked towards the body near the podium.

"Eh, no, Miss. I don't think so," he replied, not sounding all that convinced.

"I need to speak to someone in charge," Erin said with insistence.

"Come with me," the young officer said, leading the way towards a group of people standing around at the back of an ambulance.

As they neared the ambulance, Erin recognised Deputy Commissioner Vincenzo among the small group. He was talking to someone who was sitting on the back step of the ambulance. Everyone was looking very sombre and serious. Erin still fretted because there was still no sign of her father. She felt a little better when she recognised the blonde woman sitting on the ambulance step as Detective Melissa Baker, her father's aide. Melissa got to her feet when she spotted Erin approaching.

"Ms. Reagan," Baker said, getting shakily to her feet.

Erin absorbed the scene that greeted her. Melissa Baker looked pale and shaken. She stood in her blood-spattered blouse, the sleeve of which was cut away and her arm now sporting a large dressing. There were also bloodstains on her skirt. She looked around at the officers who stood beside her. No one could look Erin in the eye. What's wrong with them, she wondered. No one said a word to her. They didn't know what to say. Erin presumed the worst.

"Where is he?" Erin asked eventually.

"They've just taken him," Melissa told her.

"Taken him? Taken him where?" Erin asked, still unclear as to what had transpired.

"To Mercy Hospital," Baker replied.

Erin's heart sank. Her dad was hurt. Deep down, she already sensed it but was hoping that she was wrong. Now her priority was to be with him. Baker was about to fill Erin in on what had happened and the Commissioner's condition when the paramedic treating her interrupted her and urged her to get into the ambulance to be transported to the ER. Reluctantly she did as she was told, climbed in the back and settled onto a gurney.

"Can I ride with you?" Erin asked, looking in the back door of the ambulance.

"Of course," Baker replied.

With that, Erin climbed into the back. One of the paramedics climbed in with them and they were soon underway. As they drove, Erin quizzed Detective Baker over her father's condition. She was horrified to learn the severity of his injury.

"Why wasn't he wearing a vest?" Erin asked angrily.

"He was," Melissa told her.

"He was? How did…oh, God," Erin sighed as the implications registered with her.

It took a specialised type of bullet to pierce a ballistics vest. Having grown up in a house full of cops, she had often heard them refer to 'cop-killers', usually as they were on their way to attend the funeral of another colleague brutally gunned down. She knew the damage that type of bullet could cause. She wanted to cry but held it back; trying to be brave like her father would expect her to be.

Detective Baker also told her of the death of her father's bodyguard. Erin had met Karl many times and always liked him. He was a good man, dedicated to his job and loyal to her father. He didn't deserve to die that way. For the rest of the journey the women sat silently, considering the tragedy that had befallen them and each fearing what news faced them once they arrived at the ER. Erin was doing her best to stay in control of her emotions when her cell phone rang. She looked at the caller ID. It was her brother, Danny.

"Danny," she said immediately upon answering.

"Erin, where are you?" Danny asked.

"On my way to Mercy Hospital. Dad's been shot," Erin told him.

"I know. We're nearly there. He'll be okay, Erin," Danny said, trying to reassure his younger sister as any big brother would.

"Karl Pawlak's dead," Erin announced bluntly.

"What? Oh, man," Danny said in disbelief. "Look, Sis, I'm pulling up at the hospital now. I'll see you when you get here. Will you let the others know?"

"What? Oh, yeah….yeah of course," Erin stammered.

In an alleyway, several blocks away, Billy Chen tossed his weapon and overcoat into a dumpster. Straightening out his suit and fixing his tie, he continued calmly out of the alley onto the busy street before heading down the steps into the nearest subway. Mission accomplished. Now all he had to do was wait to collect the final instalment of his fee.

_**TBC**_

**_Thanks for the reviews guys. Be sure to let me know what you think. _**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Henry Reagan had spent most of the morning pottering around his back garden, enjoying the benefits of his well-earned retirement. He was on his way inside to make lunch when he heard the telephone ringing. Peeling off his gloves, he hurried to answer it as quickly as his aging legs would allow.

"Grandpa? Have you seen the news?"

It was Erin, his grand-daughter. She sounded breathless and strangely out of sorts.

"The news? No – I don't watch daytime TV, you know that, Erin," he reminded her.

"You need to get down to Mercy Hospital as soon as you can. Dad's been shot," she told him, her voice breaking slightly.

_What did she say? _

Henry was stunned. He fell silent, hardly able to believe what she was telling him. Not his son, not his Francis.

"Grandpa? Are you still there?" Erin asked, concerned for the elderly gent.

"I'm still here, Erin. Is he….?" he tried to ask but was unable to finish the question for fear of getting an answer he didn't want to hear.

"I don't know. I'm on my way to the hospital now. Is Jamie home? Can he drive you?" Erin asked, referring to her rookie cop of a brother, who happened to be on his day off today.

"I think he went out," Henry told her. "I'll call him on his cell. What about Nicky?" Henry asked, referring to Erin's teenage daughter.

"Oh, God, Nicky," Erin said, fearing how her daughter would find out. "She's in school. I'll call Linda and ask her to pick her up and take her back to hers."

Linda was Erin's sister-in-law, Danny's wife.

"Okay," Henry replied. "I'll meet you at the hospital. See you soon."

Henry hung up the phone and had to sit down for a minute to allow him to absorb the news. Eventually he got back to his feet and poured himself a nip of Jameson whiskey to steady his rattled nerves. As he sipped it, his youngest grandson, Jamie, arrived through the front door and into the living room. He thought it unusual to see his grandfather with a drink in his hand so early in the day.

"Are you okay, Grandpa?" he asked, noticing the slight shake in the elderly man's hand.

Henry's eyes met Jamie's. There was sadness deep in his soul.

"It's your father, Jamie," Henry began. "I just got a call from Erin. He's been shot."

"Shot? When? Is he okay?" Jamie asked, sounding completely shell-shocked.

Jamie suddenly found himself being transported back to that fateful day when his father broke the devastating news to him that his brother, Joe, had been killed in the line of duty. Just like then, he felt that dreadful, empty feeling in his chest like someone had just yanked his heart out. Not again, he thought, this couldn't be happening again.

"Jamie," Henry said, trying to get his grandson's attention. "Jamie," he repeated, seeing that the young man was very distressed.

"Jamie!" he called once more, this time the sharpness of his tone snapping the youngster back from wherever he had been. "I need you to drive me to the hospital; can you do that?"

"The hospital? Sure. I'll get my keys," he said shakily, disappearing into the kitchen momentarily.

He quickly returned, keys in hand and was ready to go. Both generations of Reagan men drove with haste into the city towards the hospital, each terrified about what they would discover when they got there.

There was chaos in the ER of Mercy Hospital when a convoy of patients descended upon it, patients which included the New York City Police Commissioner. They rushed him straight to a Trauma Room where he was immediately tended to by the top trauma surgeons in that hospital. Chief Hammond was also among the arriving patients and was whisked to a separate Trauma Room. He was in far better shape than the Commissioner, conscious and lucid. Other injured parties were triaged and seen as quickly as possible. Extra hospital security staff also had to be drafted in to stop members of the press gaining access to the ER as they pursued their breaking news story of the day.

Danny Reagan and his partner Jackie arrived at the ER shortly after the first of the ambulances. Initially, they were denied entry by security staff until Danny produced his police badge and ID. He hurried to the admissions desk and hovered impatiently, trying to find someone to speak to so he could find out about his father. Everyone was too busy to stop and talk to him. Then he noticed Lt. Chalmers pacing outside the door of a Trauma Room down the corridor. They had only met once or twice in the course of their jobs over the years but Danny remembered him. He hurried towards him hoping to find out something.

"Lieutenant?" Danny said eager for news.

"Yes?"

"Detective Danny Reagan," Danny said introducing himself, in case Chalmers didn't remember him. "Is my father in there?"

"Yes, they're working on him," Chalmers confirmed as he shook the young detective's hand.

Danny withdrew his hand abruptly and breezed past him, marching purposefully into the Trauma Room. He was stopped dead in his tracks by the sight of his father lying on a gurney, his clothing cut away, the paleness of his features emphasising the crimson of the blood which soaked the sheet beneath him. One doctor stood on his left-hand side, his hand probing a large incision in his father's chest. Blood soaked swabs littered the floor, a testament to the amount of blood the Commissioner was losing. As he stood gawping, a monitor alarm started sounding and the doctor's efforts became even more urgent. Danny fought back a wave of nausea that unexpectedly swept over him.

"His BP's going through the floor. Hang another unit of O Neg on the rapid infuser," the attending ordered. "Clamp!" he said, working furiously to try and stop the bleeding.

As Danny stood there in disbelief until his presence was eventually noticed and a nurse grabbed him by the shoulders, wheeled him around and practically shoved him out through the door.

"You cannot be in here," she chastised crossly.

"But…..," Danny began to protest.

"You'll only be in the way. Let them work," she said, making it clear his presence was not welcome.

Seeing his father in that condition had left Danny traumatised. As the doors swung closed behind him, he stood motionless with his back to the door of the Trauma Room, staring at a blank wall, his features noticeably paler than when he had entered.

"Reagan?" Jackie asked, approaching her partner with concern.

Danny raised his head, looked at her before extending his hand, palm out, to warn her not to come near him. Without warning, he turned and ran to the nearest trash can and promptly threw up. Her heart went out to her partner. She had never seen him so upset. From his reaction, she knew it must be bad inside the Trauma Room. She watched as Danny attempted to composed himself, wiping his face with his handkerchief. She could see what a struggle it was for him to keep the tears that threatened to fall at bay. She approached him and he nodded his head, unable to speak at that moment. She put her arm around his shoulder, an open display of compassion for her partner before guiding him to a seat close by.

They sat there for a few minutes outside the Trauma Room while Chalmers paced up and down, battling that anxious, helpless feeling. All remained quiet until the door of the Trauma Room burst open and the trauma team rushed past them, pushing the gurney bearing the wounded Commissioner. Danny immediately jumped to his feet and jogged alongside them.

"Dad?" he called, hoping to see some response, anything to tell him that his father was going to make it. Sadly, there was none. He reached and grabbed his father's hand. "Where are you taking him?" he asked a member of the team.

"We're red-lining him to the OR," the doctor replied. "We need to move, now."

"He's going to be okay, right?" Danny asked expectantly as a nurse held the elevator door open so the team could enter.

The doctor looked him in the eye but failed to give him an answer as the door of the elevator conveniently closed, leaving Danny a lonely, broken figure standing outside.

Jackie walked up behind him and rubbed his back, reminding him that she was there for him. As she did so, he heard his name called from down the hall. He turned and saw his sister coming running towards him. When she reached him, she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly.

"How is he?" Erin asked impatiently.

Danny just bit his top lip and shook his head. She could see immediately how distressed her brother was and stood aghast, suspecting the worst.

"Is he..?" she asked, not wanting to say it.

"He's…..I don't know. It looks bad, Sis," he finally managed to tell her.

"Oh, God," she said, reaching for a seat to steady her already shaky self.

Lieutenant Chalmers and Detective Curatola both stood awkwardly by as the siblings tried to come to terms with yet another catastrophe to befall their family. No one really knew what to do. Finally, Jackie suggested that they would be better off waiting on the surgical floor for news of the Commissioner. Erin and Danny agreed. As they departed the ER, Chalmers told them that he would wait there and see how Chief Hammond and the others were doing. They thanked him for what he had done and the group sombrely entered the elevator.

They quickly found the waiting room on the surgical floor and settled in for what was likely to be a long wait.

Back outside One Police Plaza, the Crime Scene Investigators had arrived, led by head of the Crime Lab, Detective Mac Taylor. He and his team were already busy processing the scene, trying to establish a picture of what had happened. Sid, their Medical Examiner, was doing a preliminary examination on Karl Pawlak, the only confirmed fatality of the mornings shooting, so far.

"What have you got, Sid?" Mac asked, hoping to shine some light on the morning events.

"Single gunshot to the occipital area of the skull. Death was instantaneous. Is it true this man was the Commissioner's bodyguard?" Sid enquired, having overheard officers talking. Mac nodded affirmatively.

"From what I've heard, he put himself between the Commissioner and the shooter," Mac told him. "He was a brave man."

Sid sighed, contemplating such a senseless waste of a human life.

"Any word on the Commissioner or Hammond?" he asked as Mac was walking away from him.

"I haven't heard anything yet, Sid. I'm going over to the hospital now and taking Hawkes with me. We'll need to speak to those who were injured. Danny, Lindsay and Jo can finish up here. I'll see you back at the lab," Mac said, turning away to go and find Dr. Sheldon Hawkes, another of his CSI investigators.

He and Hawkes drove to the hospital, each sharing their hypotheses on the morning's events, having seen the crime scene first hand. Journalists and television reporters were buzzing around the outside of the hospital, trying to get the scoop on the Commissioner's condition. Some of them recognised Detective Taylor from previous cases and descended upon him for a statement or a quote as he exited his SUV. Being used to press invasion by now and well versed in avoidance, Mac just swept past them, making no comment and entered the ER.

He immediately made his presence known to staff and made enquiries with regard to the whereabouts of the Commissioner, Detective Melissa Baker, Officer John Morris and Police Chief Hammond. He was informed that the Commissioner was in surgery and that Police Chief Hammond and Officer Morris were being prepped for surgery. Hammond had been wounded in the lower abdomen but his injuries were not life-threatening. Officer Morris had been hit in the leg and he just required surgery to remove the bullet. However, they were told that neither would be available for interview until after their surgery. The nurse then showed them to a curtained off area where Melissa Baker was being treated.

"Detective Baker? I'm Detective Mac Taylor with the Crime Lab. This is Dr. Sheldon Hawkes. We'd like to ask you a few questions about this morning's shooting," Mac explained.

"Of course," Baker replied, shifting uncomfortably on the bed.

"How are you feeling?" Mac enquired, noticing her wounded limb.

"I'll be okay. It's just a through and through. Any news on the Commissioner?" she asked, desperate to find out whether he was still alive, having not heard anything since she was admitted.

"He's in surgery," Mac told her.

She just shook her head despondently.

"He was wearing a vest. This shouldn't have happened," Baker said, still shaking her head. There was fury in her voice.

"Was it standard procedure that the Commissioner would wear a ballistics vest to events?" Sheldon asked.

"Not all of the time, but we had received intel that there was a credible threat. We only spoke about it this morning in his office and he scoffed that it was the seventh threat he'd received this year already, but I insisted that he wear the vest anyway, for all the good it did," she said, frustration evident in her tone.

"Okay, so I take it that the shot breached the vest?" Mac surmised by her reaction.

"One shot is all the shooter got on target but it was all he needed. It went straight through the vest like it was butter," Baker told them.

Mac and Hawkes exchanged glances. They knew the type of ammunition it took to breach body armour. They also knew the damage such bullets could do to a person. They had too often stood over corpses on the autopsy table of victims of such bullets.

"Probably cop-killers," Mac said, deliberately using the colloquial term. "We'll be able to confirm that after we run some tests on casings collected from the scene," he explained.

"Can you tell us anything about the shooter?" Sheldon asked.

Baker took a deep breath and concentrated, doing her utmost to recall the horrific events of earlier that day.

"I wish I could. He must have been using a silencer," Baker told them. "I couldn't hear any shots. One minute the Commissioner was talking, the next thing he was falling. It was like everything happened in slow motion. I heard Chief Hammond cry out when he was hit. Karl reacted first and then he went down. Oh, God! Poor Karl," Baker said, her emotions finally coming to the fore. She quickly regained her composure, not wanting to seem like a weak female in front of male colleagues and continued on as professionally as she could. "The shooter had to be in front of us. I stood up and watched the crowd disperse but I couldn't see him. There was panic. People were trying to get away. He had to be there in the crowd; there was nowhere else he could be," Baker insisted.

"Okay, we'll get any footage we can from One PP security and traffic cams in the area. We'll find who did this," Mac assured the shaken detective.

"Thank you, Detective Baker," Hawkes said, acknowledging how shaken the young detective was, while appreciating her clarity and professionalism. "We will need to take your clothes."

"My clothes?" she said sounding surprised.

"Yeah, blood spatter patterns can help us determine the trajectory of the projectile and build a clearer forensic picture of the scene," Hawkes explained. "We'll get you some sweats."

"Okay, sure, they're in that bag over there," Baker said, pointing to the large paper bag on in the corner. "Don't think I'll be wearing them again anyway."

"Thank you, Detective," Taylor said, picking up the bag and turning to leave. "If you think of anything else, give me a call," he said, handing her his card.

She nodded, accepting the card and exhaling a large, shaky breath. Detective Baker was still quite traumatized but doing her best to conceal it. She was desperately worried about the Commissioner. She felt responsible for what had happened, even though there was nothing more she could have done to protect him. But if he didn't make it, she would never forgive herself.

TBC

_**A/N - Plenty more to come. Thanks for all your positive reviews. **_


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

When Jamie Reagan and his grandfather, Henry, arrived outside Mercy Hospital, they were surrounded by prying press reporters and subjected to a barrage of questions. They recognised Henry Reagan, being a former New York City Police Commissioner himself. However, Jamie and Henry had only one thing on their minds: to get inside and find out about Frank. They were let through security and were directed by staff to the fourth floor where they found Erin and Danny sitting anxiously in the waiting area. They were desperate for an update on Frank's condition.

"He's in surgery. That's all we know," Erin told them sounding despondent. "The nurse told us that a doctor would speak to us, but no one has come near us yet."

"How bad is it, Erin?" Henry, her grandfather, asked anxiously looking into her face.

"All I know is that he was hit in the chest," she told him, looking over towards her brother.

"Oh, Mother of God! He should have been wearing a vest," the elderly gent said, sinking into the nearest chair.

"He was according to Detective Baker," Erin told him, sounding outraged.

Ever so slowly, Henry's hopes were being crushed. He was a man of faith who generally clung on to the positives, especially in life's testing situations. Even when he heard that his son had been shot, his mind turned to the numerous non-life-threatening injuries that one could sustain and presumed that it was just one of those, but hearing that his son had been shot through his vest knocked the wind out of his sails. Chest injuries were so often fatal, but he also knew, from his many years on the force, exactly what type of round it took to pierce a Kevlar vest. He had attended the funerals of too many good officers who had died as a result of such wounds. He couldn't bear the thought of losing his own son in the same manner.

Erin sat down beside her grandfather and put a comforting arm around his shoulder. What could she say? Her thoughts and fears mirrored his. The waiting, the not knowing was torture. She watched as her two brothers stood together talking, just out of earshot. She had a good idea about what they were discussing though. She knew them both well enough to know that they wouldn't lie down and let whoever did this to their father get away with it.

As she observed her two brothers, through the corner of her eye she saw a doctor approaching them. She straightened up and slowly removed her arm from around her grandfather. She took a deep breath to try and prepare for whatever news he was bringing.

"Hello, I'm Dr. Schmidt; I treated the Commissioner when he was first brought into the ER," the doctor said in introduction.

Erin and Henry expectantly got to their feet while Danny and Jamie gathered around. Detective Curatola hung up the phone and came closer.

"Is he going to be okay?" Jamie asked impatiently.

The doctor looked at the handsome young man. He couldn't help but feel sorry for him. His distress was visible in his eyes. Doctor Schmidt turned to the rest of the family and sombrely began to explain about their father's injuries.

"The Commissioner was admitted with a bullet wound to the left-hand side of his chest. He was unconscious, his lung had collapsed and he was in hypovolemic shock as a result of massive blood loss. My main concern was to stabilise him and get him to the OR. From my initial assessment, there appears to be significant internal damage, so it is likely the Commissioner will remain in surgery for some time," the doctor explained.

"What are his chances, Doc?" Danny asked, knowing that it was what everyone else wanted to know but were afraid to ask.

"At this stage, it's too early to say. His condition is critical," the doctor told him truthfully. "We'll know more once he's out of surgery."

It wasn't what any of them wanted to hear. They wanted to hear placating and comforting words, like he was going to be fine or he was a fighter, but those words never came. There was no false hope offered, just the harsh, unwelcome truth. It was disconcerting for all of them. They didn't know what to say or how to react. They were just lost. Finally, the patriarch of the family spoke up.

"Thank you, Doctor."

Henry shook the hand of the man who done such a good job at keeping his son alive.

The doctor acknowledged his thanks and gave them a sympathetic smile before excusing himself and returning back to the ER, where no doubt he would face several other challenges that very day.

Danny Reagan took his partner, Jackie, aside and explained to her that he needed to be doing something useful to get the guys who did this. But she already knew that he wasn't going to sit around and wait for someone else to handle this. She had been his partner for over two years now and she could see that he was angry and riled, and Danny Reagan in such a mood was an unwelcome adversary to any criminal. And while one part of him wanted to be with his family at such a harrowing time, Danny's instinct was to be out there working the case, doing what he did best. It was in his blood. He was a Reagan, after all. He made up an unconvincing story for his family that he and Jackie were needed in work, apologised and excused himself. Not one of the remaining family members believed his excuse for one minute, but no one challenged him. They knew the kind of man he was, so like their father in many ways, and they knew that he was going to make sure that whoever did this paid a heavy price. Jamie wanted to help too, but he was only a rookie and would probably only get in the way, he realised. He resigned himself to the fact that all he could do was stay with his family and wait.

On their way out of the hospital, Danny and Jackie exited by way of the ER again and dropped in to see Detective Baker. Now dressed in NYPD sweat pants and top, her arm in a sling, she was hoping to be discharged after having her gunshot wound treated. She was anxious to hear how the Commissioner was doing and got visibly upset when his son told her how seriously ill he was. But Danny wasn't in any mood to console her. He was a man on a mission. He had heard about the threat and wanted to know everything she knew about it, where it came from, who dealt with it, everything. He sent Jackie to get the car while he cross-examined his father's aide for anything she could tell him that might bring the perpetrator to justice, even pushing to the point where he suggested that the security detail were culpable in the events and that they had failed his father. Baker was already blaming herself as it was, but hearing the Commissioner's son reproach her team made her feel even worse. She was glad when Danny left and now that she was alone, she began to doubt herself and started to consider resigning from her position.

Across town at the New York Crime Lab, Mac Taylor and his team were already hard at work trying to identify the man responsible for the attack on the Commissioner. Mac was taking this attack very personally. Any attack on the Commissioner was an attack on the entire New York City Police Force, and as long as he lived and breathed there was no way he was going to allow the culprit get away with it.

So far they were working on the physical evidence collected from the scene, including clothing from the victims. Adam was trawling through traffic camera footage and news recordings filmed at the time of the shooting. Sid had already started the autopsy on the bodyguard.

Mac was in his office when a call came directly through to him from Detective Don Flack. He was following up on a call from a restaurant worker who witnessed a guy dumping an overcoat into the dumpster outside his restaurant. The worker was curious as to why an apparently new coat was being dumped and when he pulled it out of the dumpster, he uncovered a gun. Having heard the news on the radio in the restaurant kitchen, he realised that it might be connected to the shooting a few blocks away and called the cops.

Mac told Don to get the gun and coat back to the lab ASAP so that they could examine it. Mac hoped that this was the break-through they needed.

A short while later Mac was interrupted by a serious-looking young detective who barged unannounced into his office, followed by a dark-haired young woman.

"Are you in charge here?" he asked boldly.

"Yes, I am. And you are?" Mac asked, unimpressed by the young man's brashness.

"I'm Detective Danny Reagan. I hear you're handling the investigation into my father's shooting today and I'm here to help you find the bastard who did this," Danny explained in no uncertain terms.

"Ah, the Commissioner's son," Mac said, coming out from behind his desk and extending his hand, excusing his rudeness. "I'm Mac Taylor. I'm sorry. How's Frank doing?"

"Not too good," Danny replied seriously. "He's still in surgery."

"He's a good man, your father. Our prayers are with you and your family," Mac said respectfully.

"I, eh…., thank you," Danny replied, his tone noticeably more mellow than when he arrived. "This is my partner, Detective Jackie Curatola. Have you got anything that can help us nail this son-of-a-bitch?" Danny asked impatiently, just wanting answers.

"I've just got a call that officers have just found a gun a few blocks away from the scene, which we believe may have been used in the attack. It's on its way back here for analysis. Hopefully that will point us in the right direction," Mac told him earnestly.

"It's something, I guess," Danny replied. "What can I do?"

"Honestly? You need to be with your family," Mac told him. "We'll get this guy," he assured the young detective.

"I can't just sit around that hospital doing nothing," Danny told him.

"I know it's hard, but trust me, we've got this covered. Every cop in the city is out looking for whoever did this," Mac reminded him. "We'll find him."

Danny could sense that Detective Taylor was a good man and believed him when he said he'd get whoever did this. He decided not to push any further. He still wanted in on the investigation, but he had his own way of getting things done, so he thanked Detective Taylor and left shortly afterwards with his partner. As they waited for the elevator, Jackie turned to Danny.

"So, where to? Back to the hospital?"

"Not yet," Danny replied. "I think we need to pay a visit to Jimmy Kwon."

"Who's Jimmy Kwon?" Jackie asked.

"According to Baker, he's the guy who told detectives in the one six that there was a hit out on my dad," Danny explained as they rode the elevator down.

"Okay then. Do you know where to find him?" Jackie wondered.

"No, but I'll give Hannigan a call over at the one six," Danny told her, referring to the precinct where Sergeant Paul Hannigan was stationed. "He'll know."

**_TBC_**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

After a brief telephone conversation with Sergeant Hannigan, who was stationed at the one six precinct, Danny Reagan turned to his partner and asked her to drive to an address in Chinatown. According to Hannigan, it was the usual place of work of Jimmy Kwon, the guy who tipped off the police department about the hit on the Commissioner. Jackie Curatola didn't question her partner's decision. She started the car and they drove downtown.

Kwon was a two-bit thief, recently lifted for possession of stolen goods. In exchange for leniency he offered the police the tip-off. He was released with a caution as a result of his information and his history of previous tips. Danny was convinced that he knew more about the threat than he let on and was adamant that he was going to have a chat with him personally.

The detectives soon arrived at the address, an electrics store, where Kwon worked. They both recognised Kwon from the photo sent to their cell phones by Hannigan. He was short, early twenties, dressed trendy in streetwise knock-offs, working behind the sales counter.

"Jimmy Kwon?" Danny asked to get his attention.

Kwon looked suspiciously at the pair, immediately sensing that they were cops.

"Who wants to know?" he replied coolly.

Danny and Jackie showed their badges in unison.

"We'd like a word," Danny said, keeping it together.

"It's not a good time; I'm working," Kwon told them nervously.

"Fine," Danny said, producing his cuffs. "Would you rather I put these on you and march you out of here in front of your boss?"

"No, man," Kwon replied anxiously. "You'll get me fired."

"Okay then. So let's talk," Danny said smugly.

"About what?" Kwon asked.

"The hit on the Police Commissioner," Danny replied. "The one you knew about before it even happened."

"I know nothing about that," Kwon said, instantly denying having any information.

"That's not what I heard," Danny said, getting in his face.

"Come on, man, I can't afford to lose this job," Kwon appealed, noticing his boss looking over at them.

"Then take a break," Jackie suggested. "We can wait."

Kwon knew he hadn't much choice. He approached his boss and gave him some fabricated story and asked if he could take an early break. His boss was curious, but as it wasn't busy, he asked no questions and allowed him to go.

"Good boy," Danny said patronisingly when Kwon met them outside.

Danny and Jackie guided him into an alley that ran alongside the store.

"I don't know what you want with me. I told you, I don't know anything," Kwon insisted.

Danny quickly lost his patience and grabbed the young man by the scruff of the neck.

"Look, you little piece of shit," Danny said, his anger bubbling over. "Frank Reagan is my father and I swear to God, if he dies, I will march you out in front of every NYPD officer in the city and let them each have a piece of you."

Kwon, nose to nose with Detective Reagan, could see that the he wasn't kidding. There was a fire in his eyes that made it clear to Kwon that this man was on a personal quest and that no one would stand in his way. He knew he had no alternative. He had to tell them what he knew.

"Chin Fat Lee," Kwon said under his breath.

"What?" Danny said, surprised that the kid had caved so easily.

"Chin Fat Lee, he's an importer downtown. He's also highly connected with the Triad gang that runs this town," Kwon told him. "He'll kill me if he finds out I told you anything."

"Lee – I've heard of him," Jackie said, waiting to see where this was going. "Go on."

"I was staking out a delivery of his, you know, kinda hoping something might fall off the back of one of his trucks," Kwon began with an innocent smile. "Anyway, I recognised Lee among a group of guys. I wasn't really listening to what they were saying, I was just trying not to get seen, you know? Anyway, I heard him saying it was all arranged. They would show the police department just how much they could hurt them, something about cutting them off at the head. They mentioned the name Reagan. That was all I heard."

"You sure?" Reagan asked, trying to read the young man's face to see if he could believe him.

"I swear, man, that's all I heard," Kwon insisted, a bead of sweat trickling down his temple.

"What about the guy he was talking to? Did you recognise him?" Danny asked.

"It was dark. I didn't see him clearly," Kwon swore. "You have to believe me."

Danny looked at his partner and she nodded to him, indicating that she believed what Kwon was saying. Danny released his grip and the informant relaxed a little. Reagan patted down the front of his shirt as if to help him straighten it out.

"Go on, get out of here," Danny said, turning and walking away from Kwon.

Kwon didn't hesitate and quickly rounded the corner of the alley, straightened himself up some more outside the electrical store and then returned to work.

"What do you think?" Jackie asked her partner.

"I believe him, Jack. We need to find out what we can about this guy Lee," Danny said as they walked back to their car. "Sounds like he pulls the strings."

Back at the hospital, Erin, Jamie and Henry Reagan waited…and waited. Silence filled the waiting room. It was only occasionally broken by a heavy sigh or a nervous cough from within. Any time a nurse or doctor appeared from the direction of the OR, they each raised their head expectantly, only to have their hopes dashed over and over. The hours passed quickly. No news was good news was their mantra. They repeated it to one another as if to try and convince themselves. Frank had been in surgery for close to four hours now. For his family, the wait was agony, although they would each gladly endure any agony if it meant Frank getting through this.

Meanwhile, at the Crime Lab, the team of CSI's were working furiously. The Mayor and Deputy Commissioner were on Mac Taylor's back looking for results and wanting them fast. His team had run ballistics tests on the weapon and spent rounds and were able to match both to the casings found at the scene. Striations matched those from the bullet removed from the skull of the Commissioner's bodyguard. The bullet was a Teflon-coated 9mm round, which would be difficult to source, Mac believed. Commonly known as cop-killers, this particular round was intended to cause maximum damage to the intended victim. Mac's faith was tested as he began to consider what their Commissioner's chances of survival were. Danny Messer was carrying out further tests on the weapon. There were still rounds in the clip when it was found and he hoped that he might be able to pull a print from one of them. Lindsay was busy testing the overcoat for trace evidence. Jo Danville was examining the crime scene details and recreating a digital picture of events which they hoped would assist them in understanding exactly occurred outside One Police Plaza.

Mac was standing in the corridor looking through the clear glass walls into their lab, watching them work, when he heard his name called out.

"Mac!" Adam called, snapping Mac away from his musings.

"Yeah?"

"I think I've got something," Adam enthused from the doorway. "I pulled footage from around the alley where Flack found the weapon and I think I've got our guy."

Adam eagerly led Mac to his workstation which was surrounded by a multitude of screens and monitors. Adam sat back at his desk and pointed to the large middle screen.

"Observe!" he said keenly.

He pressed play and the grainy black and white footage played on the screen. Mac observed several people rushing along the sidewalk, going about their business. Nothing strange there, he thought. Then he watched as a guy wearing an overcoat, checking over his shoulder, turned down the alley and then vanished out of shot.

"Can you get a close up of him?" Mac asked hopefully.

"Of course I can, but that's not all," Adam said with pride. "Screen two."

He paused the footage and brought up footage from another camera on another screen.

"This is from the north exit of the alley," Adam informed his boss.

The same guy strolled calmly out of the alleyway, minus the overcoat, wearing black jacket and slacks, looking smart and relaxed. He turned west at the top of the alley and disappeared.

"Can you track where he went from there?" Mac asked optimistically.

"Your wish is my command," Adam said confidently, bringing up a still of the same man going down the steps to the nearest subway.

"Good job, Adam," Mac said, impressed by his young charge. "Get me some pictures of this guy out on the street."

"On it, Boss," Adam quipped as he zoomed and enhanced the footage to try and produce the best quality picture he could.

On their way back to their precinct, Danny Reagan and his partner discussed the information Kwon had offered.

"Do you know anything about this guy Lee?" Danny asked his partner.

"Not really," Jackie replied, "but I think I know who will."

Danny looked curiously at her.

"Lt. Chalmers, you met him at the hospital. He's the head of the Organised Crime Task Force your dad set up."

"Right, we need to have a chat with him," Danny agreed.

Danny called his own precinct and asked them to send him the contact details for Chalmers. When he called Chalmers' office, he was told that the lieutenant was still at the hospital so Danny and Jackie turned their car around and headed back there. It would be easier to talk to the man in person and he could check on his father at the same time, Danny thought.

In OR three at Mercy Hospital, surgeons were still battling to save the life of the Police Commissioner. They had been operating on him for hours and they were still uncertain of the likely outcome despite their efforts. With their patient's chest open in front of them, they were doing their damnedest to keep him alive. Not only was he a high profile patient, but they knew he had a devoted family waiting outside, desperate for a miracle.

An alarm sounded in the OR, not for the first time, signalling that their patient's condition was deteriorating again.

"Damn it," the surgeon cursed. "Each time I tie off a bleeder, there's another. Clamp!" he ordered gruffly.

He deftly felt around the chest cavity and quickly located the culprit. The bullet had stayed relatively intact when it entered the Commissioner's body. The surgeons presumed that the ballistics vest he wore when he was shot had slowed the velocity of the slug, lessening the subsequent damage. It had shattered a rib, however, and still managed to cause serious internal damage. Unknown to the Commissioner, his life was in the hands of some of the finest thoracic surgeons in the country. They were prepared to do whatever it took to get their patient out of the OR alive.

Danny and Jackie found Lieutenant Chalmers chatting to some uniformed officers who had congregated in the ER, anxious for news of their injured colleagues. Danny strode up with determination and made no apology for his interruption.

"Lt. Chalmers, can I have a word?" Danny asked boldly.

"Detective Reagan," Chalmers said, recognising him from their brief encounter earlier that day.

Danny nodded.

"How's the Commissioner doing?" Chalmers asked, his genuine concern apparent in his tone.

"I'm not sure. I'm going up to check in with the family in a few minutes," Danny replied, feeling guilty for not knowing how his father was.

"You need something?" Chalmers wondered.

"What can you tell me about Chin Fat Lee?" Jackie asked.

"Lee? He's a piece of work. Why do you ask?"

"We have information that he was the money behind the shooting today," Danny told him.

The lieutenant paused, his expression changing as he considered what he had just heard.

"I wouldn't be surprised," Chalmers replied honestly. "All I can say is that your father has been a huge advocate of this task force since it started, and we're making life pretty difficult for certain individuals out there. Lee is known to operate high up in Triad circles, so this could be his shot across the bow so to speak."

"Do you have someone on the inside?" Danny asked audaciously, knowing how task forces operated and suspecting that they did.

"You know I can't tell you that, Reagan," Chalmers said, his expression turning more into a frown.

Danny remained surprisingly calm, much to Jackie's surprise. He wasn't usually that understanding when people didn't give him the answers he wanted to hear.

"Well, presuming you have, I need you to make contact and get him to find out if Lee's our guy?" Danny asked, hoping Chalmers would play ball.

"Might not be as easy as that. It's risky to make contact; it could break his cover," he replied. "Look, we want to get whoever did this as much as you do, Reagan, but we can't risk another cop's life. I'll see what I can do, but I can't promise anything."

"That's all I ask. Thanks," Danny replied, shaking the lieutenant's hand.

He didn't like the idea of putting another cop's life on the line either, but he had to know. He didn't want to waste time chasing the wrong guy. Lee was in his crosshairs, but he wanted to be sure. He also had to know if this was over or if there was going to be another attempt on his father's life. He turned to Jackie.

"I'm just going to check in upstairs," Danny said sombrely.

Jackie watched as her partner waited by the elevator, hands on his hips, anxiously looking up as the numbers on the display steadily dropped from floor seven to ground floor. Danny was emotionally shattered. This was really taking its toll on him and Jackie was worried. Unfortunately there wasn't much she could do but be there for him. She bought herself a coffee from the vending machine and sat in the ER and waited for him to return.

Danny found his family where he had left them on the fourth floor. They all sat in a group looking anxious, pretty much how he left them.

"Any word?" he asked as he neared them.

"No, he's still in surgery. I guess no news is good news, right?" Erin told him, sounding more like she was trying to convince herself than anything.

"Sure," Danny replied, not totally convinced.

"Any leads?" Henry asked, knowing full sure that his grandson was hard at work trying to bring in the lunatic who did this.

"They're pretty sure the shooter was a hired gun," Danny told him. "They think he's linked to a Triad gang out of Chinatown."

"Any ballistics? DNA?" Henry wondered, knowing from his PD experience exactly the kind of investigation that was under way.

"I was planning to call back to the Crime Lab. I'll get an update and let you know."

"You'll get him, right Danny?" Erin asked, struggling with the guilt she carried for wanting revenge against the monster who shot her father.

"Oh, we'll get him, Sis, don't you worry about that," Danny said, hugging her before saying goodbye and heading out to do what he did best. "Call me as soon as you hear anything."

**TBC**

**Thanks again for your reviews. Still more to come. **


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Having paid a brief visit to the hospital, Jackie and Danny returned to the Crime Lab. They found Mac Taylor in the tech room with another of his technical staff, Adam Ross. Mac looked surprised to see the detectives again so soon.

"Detective Curatola, Detective Reagan," he said, inviting them into the tech room. "Any news on your father?" he asked, turning towards Danny.

"He's still in surgery," Danny replied, appreciating the senior detective's concern.

"I'm sorry, man. I hope he's okay," Adam piped up, echoing the feeling of every person present.

"Me too," Danny replied gratefully. "Did you guys get anything?"

"We've discovered some interesting camera footage and I think we've found our shooter," Mac told him. "Adam's just running the image through the DMV database, using facial recognition software; so far, no hits. We found a weapon and a coat we believe the shooter used. We're testing them at the moment."

"Great, you might be able to pull prints," Danny said hopefully.

"Well, the weapon was clean, but there may be something on the clip or we might get lucky and find trace or DNA on the overcoat," Mac told him, careful not to raise his hopes.

"Good, well we've come up with a name. Not the shooters, but we now know that it was a hit and our informant tells us that the guy who ordered it is a hood called Chin Fat Lee. He runs a legitimate electronics import business out of Chinatown. The OCTF believes that he is involved in the main Triad gang in the area. Lieutenant Chalmers is running down a list of known associates, and he said he'd let us know when he's got something," Danny explained.

Just then they were interrupted by another CSI, Lindsay Messer, who strode confidently into the tech room, her face bearing an unmistakable smile.

"Mac," she said, unable to hide her glee. "We've got a partial," she informed him, referring to a partial fingerprint.

"From the weapon?" Mac asked, sounding surprised.

"Nope," Linsday replied, her self-confidence at a peak. "From a button."

"A button?" Mac and Danny asked almost simultaneously.

"Guess who forgot to wear their gloves when they removed their overcoat?" Lindsay said coolly, a smug smile evident on her face.

"Any hits on AFIS?" Mac asked expectantly.

"Not yet. I'm running it now," Lindsay replied.

"Good work, Lindsay," Mac said, with a smile on his face. "Oh, I'm sorry, Lindsay Messer, this is Detective Danny Reagan and his partner, Jackie Curatola," Mac said, introducing the visitors to their lab.

"Nice to meet you," Lindsay said, shaking hands with them, only then registering the Reagan surname. "Reagan. Are you related to the Commissioner?"

"Yeah, he's my father," Danny replied, underplaying that fact.

"Oh, Lord, I'm so sorry. How is he doing?" Lindsay enquired, her smile changing to a look of genuine concern.

"He's still in surgery. He's hanging in there," Danny told her, trying to appear focused and maintain his tough outer facade.

"We're all praying for him," she told him kindly.

"I know you are...thanks," Danny said, genuinely appreciative.

Meanwhile, in Chinatown, Billy Chen sat in a small apartment situated over a vegetable shop. He made a call to his client.

"It's done," he said, when his client answered.

"I heard," the client replied. "They are reporting one fatality but so far no news of our friend, the Commissioner."

"He took a round in the chest. He won't survive that," Chen said heartlessly. "When do I get the final instalment?"

"When I read his obituary," his client laughed.

Chen hung up, feeling perturbed for the first time. He preferred a clean kill, but that damn bodyguard had gotten in the way. He turned on his TV and found the local news network which was replaying footage of the shooting and reporting live from outside Mercy Hospital. So far, there was no statement from the Commissioner's Office with regard to his condition. He would have to wait. He hated waiting.

Back in the visitor's area outside the OR, Erin Reagan sipped yet another cup of stale coffee. She watched as her baby brother, Jamie, paced back and forth from one side of the room to the other. Henry, her grandfather, stood staring out the window, praying for a miracle. Erin returned her gaze to the grey doors that separated them from the OR suites. She watched as yet another scrubs-clad member of staff emerged. Ever since they had arrived, there had been a steady stream of nurses and doctors through those doors, not one of whom had said anything to them, but she only wanted to see one person: the one who would tell her that her dad was going to make it.

She watched as this latest medic to emerge removed his surgical cap, revealing a greying head of hair. He looked exhausted she thought as he continued to walk towards them. Then she realised that he was coming straight over to them. This was it, the news they had been waiting for. She got to her feet, the suddenness of her actions spurring the rest of her family to turn and see what was propelling her. She tried to read the expression in the doctor's face, but she couldn't. Her stomach lurched and she felt nauseous. He stopped before them, his demeanour remaining serious.

"The Reagan family?" he asked out of courtesy.

"Yes, how's my son?" Henry asked, not waiting for introductions, his stomach also churning with dread.

"He's made it through the surgery, but his condition remains critical. The bullet caused extensive internal damage. We did our best to save his kidney, but it was beyond salvage. The renal artery was severed and this resulted in massive haemorrhage. Controlling the blood loss was our priority when he was admitted and once we had that under control, we could work on repairing the damage. We also repaired his lung and inserted a chest drain, which is standard after such penetrative injuries," the doctor explained. "He's being moved to the ICU at the moment. We have placed him in a medically induced coma to give his body time to heal. We'll probably keep him sedated for at least 24 hours, but it's the next 48 hours that are critical. He's made it this far; he's a fighter and that's important," he said, trying to offer some hope.

"That he is, Doctor," Henry replied with pride.

"So, he's going to be okay?" Jamie asked, still seeking reassurance.

"He's doing as well as can be expected, but he's not out of the woods," the doctor was at pains to remind them.

The family absorbed his words, relieved at least that Frank had survived the surgery. They had great faith in his strength and his will to live, so knowing that he had made it this far gave them great cause for optimism.

"I can send someone to take you to see him once he's been settled into the ICU," the doctor said as he prepared to leave.

"Yes, thank you, Doctor," Erin said, shaking his hand. "Thank you."

"Of course," the doctor said. "I also need to ask you; the press are outside waiting on an update on the Commissioner's condition. Are you happy for the hospital administrator to release a statement to apprise them of his condition?"

Erin looked at Jamie and then at her grandfather. He nodded his agreement.

"Sure," she replied. "But if you can hold off for an hour or so, until we reach the rest of our family first."

"Of course," the doctor agreed.

As the doctor walked away back towards the OR, the family hugged each other and several tears of relief were shed as the stress of their nightmare day finally overflowed. Erin took the opportunity to call Linda, Danny's wife, who had picked up Nicky from school. She shared the news with Linda before asking to speak to her daughter. Nicky was very vocal in sharing her fears with her mom and begged Erin to allow her come to the hospital. Erin did her best to explain to Nicky that her grandfather was in the ICU and that visitors were limited. Without trying to scare the teen even more, she also pointed out that Frank would be unconscious for some time and told her that she could come visit him when he was awake. Nicky still wasn't happy but knew she had little or no choice.

While Erin spoke to her daughter, her brother, Jamie, was on his cell phone updating Danny, who was still at the Crime Lab. Danny was hugely relieved to hear that his father was fighting. Jamie then enquired about the investigation. He was impressed that they were following some solid leads that would hopefully turn out to be productive. They continued conversing until a nurse approached the small group and invited them to follow her to the ICU. Jamie told Danny that he had to go and promised to call if there was any change in his father's condition.

The ICU was situated on the floor above the OR. They walked though double sliding doors into the ICU's central nurse's station area. It was positioned in the middle of a large open space and surrounded by an outer ring of tiny individual rooms where the patients could be easily observed through glass walls. It was from here that Erin first spotted her father, his moustache making him more easily distinguishable from the other patients.

"Not too long, okay," the nurse warned before giving them a sympathetic smile.

As they were shown into the room, Erin's eyes instantly brimmed with tears. She would always be her daddy's little girl and seeing him so desperately ill broke her heart. The nurse had warned them that it could be distressing seeing Frank hooked up to all the machines, tubes and drains and Erin thought she was prepared for it, but she was wrong. She reached out and grabbed her brother's hand for support, squeezing it tightly. He looked in her eyes and could see how upset she was. He moved closer to her and placed his arm around her shoulder. United in their grief, they watched their aged grandfather hesitantly walk to the bed and take the hand of his only son in his. With the other hand he tenderly stoked his son's forehead.

"Francis," he said, calling his son by his given name as he always did. "It's me. I don't know if you can hear me, son, but we're all here for you. You just need to be strong and fight, like only a Reagan can fight. Do you hear me?"

The old man hung his head, trying to hide the tears that streamed down his face but failing miserably. Erin approached him and rested her hand on his shoulder. He turned around to her and tried to muster a smile. He desperately wanted to be the strong one, the one to offer reassurance to the younger ones, but the truth was he was scared. He couldn't bear the thought of losing his son. It wasn't natural. No man should outlive his child. And in that moment, he realised for the first time exactly how Frank must have felt at the loss of his eldest son. It must have been crushing.

They remained there, watching helplessly as machines kept their beloved Frank alive. Emotions were raw and diverse. Fear and anger combined with relief and disbelief left them confused. It was getting to the stage where they didn't know what to feel anymore. Henry thought he should have felt grateful that his son was alive but instead he was angry, not just angry at whoever did this, but angry at God. Hadn't his family suffered enough? Being a devout Catholic, Henry believed that everything that happened was all part of God's great plan. But right now, as he watched his only son clinging to life, he was having doubts. Those doubts weighed heavily on his heart. It was suffocating.

Unexpectedly, in the stillness of the ICU room, he turned and mumbled something incoherent and left without any explanation. Jamie and Erin watched with concern as he hurried away.

"Should I go after him?" Jamie asked, frustrated by the helplessness of the situation.

"No, give him some space," Erin advised, having an idea of where he might be headed.

"I could do with some coffee; do you want anything?" Jamie asked, just wanting to be doing something.

"Sure," Erin replied. "Coffee sounds good."

As Jamie left the ICU suite, he found Detective Baker, sitting alone in the visitor's waiting area outside, looking pale and more than a little lost.

"Detective Baker?" he said softly so as not to startle her.

"Jamie, I mean Officer Reagan," she said nervously, sitting up straight.

"Jamie's fine," he corrected her.

"How is the Commissioner?" she asked with trepidation.

"He's alive," Jamie said, trying to concentrate on the positives. "The doctor said the next 48 hours are critical. But he's strong. He's going to make it," he said confidently.

"Of course he is," she replied, trying to sound convinced.

There was a moment of awkward silence before Baker spoke again.

"Your grandfather walked by a minute ago. I don't think he saw me, though," she told him.

"Oh, don't mind him. He's very upset, as you can imagine," Jamie said, making excuses for the old man.

"Of course, that's understandable," she said with an anxious smile. "Well, I'd better go then. I just wanted to see how he is."

"Thank you, Detective," Jamie said as she turned to walk away. "For everything you did for my father today."

"I don't deserve your thanks," Melissa said, fighting back her emotions, not for the first time that day. "I should have cancelled his engagements as soon as I heard about the threat. It's my fault he was out there. This is all my fault. Karl's dead and your father, well he's…...," she sobbed, unable to finish.

Jamie looked at her, surprised by her outburst. But he knew how the office of the Commissioner was run and he knew his father. He would never have let any threat against him hamper how he ran his office and carried out his duties.

"Don't think like that, Melissa. This isn't your fault. You followed protocol. He was wearing his vest. You couldn't have foreseen any of this," Jamie said, feeling sorry for the young woman. "Don't worry. We'll get whoever did this. You know we will."

Baker nodded solemnly in agreement and wiped her eyes. The police brotherhood would not rest until the culprit was caught, of that she was certain. She left the ICU feeling a little more reassured and decided to go home. She wanted to be with the Commissioner but knew it was not her place. He had his family. It had been a long day and she needed to follow her doctor's orders and rest.

Once Detective Baker had left, Jamie took the opportunity to call his big brother and update him again.

"So, what did the doctor say?" Danny asked, desperate to know.

"Not much at the moment, just that his condition is critical and that the next 48 hours are crucial. He's in a medically-induced coma," Jamie told him.

"A coma? Why? I don't understand," Danny said, sounding upset.

"Seemingly it's to give his body the chance to heal, and if he was awake he'd be in a lot of pain," Jamie explained as best he could.

His brother was anxious and relieved at the same time. His father had survived the surgery, but knowing that he had a battle on his hands still scared him.

"Okay, well thanks for keeping me posted," Danny said.

"Sure. Any news on your end?" Jamie asked, referring to the investigation.

"Lieutenant Chalmers eventually confirmed to me that they have someone undercover in Lee's organisation. I think they're going to plan a raid to get their guy and a few of Lee's men into the station. That way they can question him without blowing his cover," Danny informed him.

"Good, hopefully he'll be able to shed some light on what happened," Jamie said, thankful that there was at least something being done.

He said goodbye to his brother and went in search of the cafeteria. It was going to be a long night.

**_TBC_**

**_Sorry for the delay in posting. Will try and do better! As always, reviews most welcome._**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N - Sorry for the dealy in posting. Been having problems with internet provider and have been without internet for the last week. Still not sorted but will try and post two chapters to make up for the delay.**

**Chapter 7**

Darkness had crept in and slowly shrouded the city. Street lights warmed the pavements and New Yorkers continued on their way. Police vehicles could be seen on almost every street corner. Their Commissioner was down and the city and its police force remained on high alert.

Back at his precinct, Danny Reagan reached for another cup of coffee. It had been a nightmare of a day by anyone's standards. His worn out body screamed for respite, but his heart compelled him to keep working. The thought of his father battling for his life in a hospital across town fuelled him to find the person responsible. He was impatiently waiting on a call from Lieutenant Chalmers of the Organized Crime Task Force who, at this moment, was leading a raid on a suspect's warehouse in Chinatown.

As usual, his partner, Jackie Curatola, loyally waited alongside him. Her tour had finished hours ago, but she knew her partner was on a personal crusade and he needed her, not only for her skills as a detective but as a friend. She had looked after him and helped him through so much. She knew his temperament and his methods and knew when to keep out of his way and when to step in. Having her around kept him grounded and out of trouble.

As the pair sipped their coffees, activity started to build in the office until it was transformed into a hive of activity. Chalmers' squad were returning with the guys they had detained at the warehouse. Danny stood and caught Chalmers' eye as he entered the squad room. Chalmers acknowledged him and signalled for him to wait. Danny sat back down and watched as several Asian men were frog-marched through the office to the interview rooms. A short while later Chalmers returned.

"He's in interview room four," he told them. "He goes by the name of Wong. You've got maybe fifteen minutes before Lee's lawyers come marching in. Make it count."

"Thanks, Lieutenant," Danny said, hurrying to the interview room followed by his partner.

He looked through the mirrored glass from the observation area and saw an Asian man, aged approximately forty years old and wearing a black leather jacket, beige t-shirt and jeans, sitting one side of a table. Looking at him, you would never guess he was a cop. Danny and Jackie entered together. As they did, the guy raised his head and acknowledged their presence.

"Hi, Mr. eh…..Wong," Danny said as he sat down. "I'm Detective Danny Reagan and this is Detective Curatola. I appreciate you doing this."

"Reagan? Are you the Commissioner's kid?"

"One of them," Danny replied.

"I heard what happened. I hope he pulls through," Wong told him.

"Yeah, me too," Danny responded. "Do you know why you're here?"

"Not really. I got a message that I was being brought in, ; it didn't say why," he explained.

"We believe Lee is behind the hit on my father," Danny told him.

Wong remained silent, carefully considering what he had just told him.

"I wouldn't know," Wong replied. "I'm not sure how I can help. He hasn't exactly allowed me to be involved in much of his business dealings as yet. It takes him a while to trust new faces. I've been around him for the past eighteen months and he still doesn't trust me!"

"I just need you to think back. Did you ever hear him mention my father? Did you see anyone new around lately? Anything?" Danny asked, almost pleaded.

"I've heard him curse your father on many occasions. No doubt he's cursing him now, but I've never heard him make a direct threat against him. He's too smart for that," Wong pointed out. Wong paused momentarily. "There was a guy a couple of days back. I hadn't seen him before and Lee didn't exactly introduce him and was anxious not to be seen with him. He arrived on foot, alone. They spoke briefly in private. He left. I didn't see him again."

"Is this the guy?" Danny asked, producing a copy of the photo from the security footage given to him by Mac Taylor.

"Could be him," Won replied dubiously. "I can't be sure. It was dark and I was unloading a truck at the time."

"Look closer," Danny insisted, pushing but trying not to be too aggressive.

"Like I said, it could be," Wong replied, looking into Danny's face.

"Do you think you could find who this mysterious visitor was?" Danny enquired.

"I could make discreet enquiries," Wong replied. "But I can't exactly go around asking too many questions, you know?"

"I understand. Whatever you can find out would be great. Thanks," Danny said, reaching across the table to shake his hand.

"Don't!" Wong growled, much to Reagan's surprise. "Hit me."

"Excuse me?" Danny said, unable to conceal his surprise.

"Hit me," Wong insisted through gritted teeth.

"That's what I thought you said. Are you sure?" Danny asked, as he got to his feet.

"Yeah, rough me up a bit. A couple of bruises will make it look more authentic," Wong explained. "Helps maintain my cover."

Danny understood fully, knowing the risks an undercover cop lived with each day. Their sacrifices were immense. He admired the man's bravery and hated what he had to do. He stood up and walked around behind where Wong sat, grabbed him by the back of his neck before suddenly slamming his head onto the table, causing Jackie to wince at his vicious actions. Wong groaned and rubbed his forehead, allowing himself a wry smile.

"Nice doing business with you," he winked.

"Good luck," Danny said as he turned to exit the room. "Stay safe."

Back at the Crime Lab, the CSI's were making progress with their investigation. Mac was in his office reviewing the evidence they had so far when Lindsay knocked on his door.

"Hey," she said as she entered. "We got a hit," she declared.

"Do you have a name?" Mac asked expectantly.

"Not exactly," Lindsay replied hesitantly. "The print matched that of a person of interest in another homicide in Tampa, Florida. Their print was lifted from a murder weapon in that case, but they never identified the suspect."

"Do you have a copy of that file?" Mac asked.

"Here you go," she said handing it over to him.

"Thanks," he said taking it.

"Did you hear from Flack?" Lindsay asked, wondering if they had any other leads.

"He's helping the OCTF with a raid on a warehouse belonging to Chin Fat Lee. They like him for this. Let's just hope the evidence supports their theory," Mac mused.

The room in ICU was silent except for the regular hiss of the ventilator keeping Frank Reagan alive. It was now well into the early hours of the morning and Erin Reagan and her brother Jamie were keeping a constant vigil at their father's bedside. Sleep was not going to come easy that night. They both watched their father closely, silent in their prayer that he would pull through. Jamie stood up to stretch his back, which was aching from being seated in the same position for so long.

"I think I should go and find Grandpa. He's been gone ages," Jamie said to Erin.

"I'm sure he's fine," Erin said, suspecting that he just needed to be alone and deal with what had happened in his own way.

"I'd be happier knowing he's okay, though," Jamie insisted. "I'll just go check on him."

Erin shrugged, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

"I'd try the chapel," she suggested as her brother left the room.

And that was what Jamie did. The corridors around the ICU were eerily quiet because of the late hour. Jamie followed a wall sign that pointed towards the hospital chapel. He entered silently. It was dimly lit and he struggled to see if anyone was inside. Candlelight illuminated a small altar at the front of the chapel and it was in a pew close by that he saw a silhouette. His elderly grandfather knelt with his head bowed and hands joined, his elbows leaning heavily on the back of the seat in front of him. Jamie slowly approached him, gently placing his hand on Henry's shoulder to make his presence known.

"Grandpa?" he whispered affectionately.

Henry turned and looked up at Jamie. Even in the poor light he could see his eyes were bloodshot and puffy. He had been crying.

"I didn't know what else to do," he told him, almost sounding ashamed of his helplessness. "Is he…..?"

"He's hanging in there," Jamie told him.

"I feel completely useless," Henry admitted to his youngest grandson.

"We all do," Jamie replied. "All anyone can do right now is pray," Jamie told him. His grandfather nodded, taking a deep cleansing breath, releasing the tension that had built up inside him.

"Have you been here all this time?" Jamie asked.

Henry nodded. It had been hours since he left Frank's side in the ICU. He was frustrated, seeing his son fighting for his life while he stood there, helplessly waiting for a miracle, so he escaped to the chapel to find some solace.

"You really should eat something to keep your strength up," Jamie said. "Come on."

"I'm not sure I can," Henry admitted, knowing that his aged joints were stiff and sore and fearing that he might not be able to get to his feet.

"Come on. Let me help you," Jamie offered as he helped the old man to his feet.

As he left the pew, Henry stiffly genuflected and blessed himself before turning his back on the altar. Together he and Jamie left the chapel and Jamie guided him to the cafeteria, insisting that he needed to keep his strength up. There was only coffee and sandwiches available at that hour, but it was better than nothing.

For the rest of the night most of the Reagan family kept a vigil at Frank's bedside, despite being told that there was no need and being given an undertaking that they would be called should there be any change in his condition.

By the time the first slivers of dawn sunshine broke through the window, they were exhausted. They had each tried to rest and grab an hour's sleep here and there, but the ICU was not intended to accommodate long-term visitors. Jamie had retired to the visitor's waiting room and slept on a sofa there for a couple of hours. Erin curled up on a straight-backed chair in the corner of the room. Henry spent most of the night walking the corridors, his rosary beads in hand, unable to find rest.

When Erin woke, she could see that her grandfather was exhausted. Jamie joined them in the ICU room, having brought fresh coffee for everyone. It was then that Erin suggested that Jamie should take Henry home. Henry protested, insisting that he was fine and that he wasn't leaving Frank's side.

"He's going to be unconscious for some time yet, Grandpa. He'll want you here when he does wake up. Go home, get some rest and I promise I'll call you if there's any change," Erin assured him.

Henry knew Erin was right. He was completely drained of energy. He needed to take his heart medication and he'd left that at home, so reluctantly he agreed to let Jamie take him home. He kissed his son on the cheek and placed his rosary beads in his hand.

"Come back to me, Son," he whispered before turning away and joining Jamie,.

The pair left the ICU, leaving Erin to keep watch on Frank.

_**Reviews are welcome, as always!**_


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

_"Reporting live from outside Mercy Hospital, here's Tammy Webb!"_

_"Good morning, Tom. Police Commissioner Frank Reagan, remains in a critical condition this morning following a shooting at Number One Police Plaza yesterday. We are told that his family remain at his side while New York's finest comb the city to find the gunman who sent shockwaves through this city yesterday. Earlier, this morning, the Mayor made the following statement:"_

The report cut to video feed.

_"On behalf of New York City and her citizens, I wish to send my condolences to the family of Detective Karl Pawlak, a fine police officer, who was killed in the line of duty yesterday. I also wish to take this opportunity to send my best wishes to all those injured in the incident, including my good friend and close colleague, Commissioner Frank Reagan. I can assure the citizens of New York City that the might of the New York City Police Department will be brought to bear and we will bring the perpetrator of this heinous attack to justice."_

The video insert ended and they cut back to the reporter.

_"Spokesperson for the investigating team said that they are following a definite line of enquiry and are confident that yesterday's attack was not an act of terrorism. This is Tammy Webb for ZNN live outside the Mercy Hospital."_

Billy Chen cursed at the TV as he watched the ZNN morning news report. Reagan was still alive. How the hell could he still be alive, he wondered. Lee would not be happy, which meant that Billy would not get the rest of his fee. Also, Billy was conscious of his unblemished reputation as a hit-man. Even if he was planning on getting out of the game, he prided himself on his record of clean kills and satisfied clients. He would have to ensure that his record remained perfect. He knew it wouldn't be easy getting to the Commissioner now, but he was experienced and thorough. He'd get the job finished. It might just take a little longer than planned.

"Hey, Sis," called a voice from the hallway.

Erin Reagan turned to see her older brother shuffle into the ICU cubicle, looking tired and drawn. He was accompanied by a uniformed officer, who took up station outside her father's room.

"How's he doing?" Danny asked, as he walked over to her and kissed her on the cheek.

"There's no change," Erin replied with a sigh. "What's with him?"

"Just a precaution until we catch the guy," Danny replied, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Erin didn't make any more of the armed guard than was necessary. She knew her father was an important figure and armed security was part and parcel of his daily life.

"You look awful," she said to her dishevelled looking brother.

Danny couldn't help but snigger.

"Pot, kettle and black comes to mind," he said cheekily, giving her shoulder a playful squeeze.

Erin smiled up at her big brother. He had a point.

"Have you had any sleep?" Erin asked him.

"I tried to grab an hour at the station," Danny told her. "Not very successfully, I might add."

"Do you want to get some coffee?" Erin asked.

"I've drank about as much coffee as I can handle," Danny replied with a smile. "Why don't you go get some breakfast? I'll sit with him for a bit."

"You sure?"

"Go," Danny said, hugging his sister as she stiffly stood up and left the room.

Danny turned back to his gravely ill father. He watched as his chest rose and fell as the ventilator forced oxygen into his lungs. The scene was so wrong. His blood boiled thinking that the person responsible for this was still out there. He knew that the investigation had hit a brick wall. They had very little to go on and they badly needed a break. Danny reached across and took his father's hand in his.

"I'll get the son-of-a-bitch who did this, Dad. I swear, I'll get him," Danny promised. "You just concentrate on getting better. We need you, Dad, so you fight. Do you hear me? Just fight," he urged, tightening his grip on his father's hand.

In the relative privacy of the hospital room, Danny allowed the tears that had been pent up for the last twenty-four hours to fall. His hard-assed, tough guy image was a necessity of the job, but it masked a softer, more sensitive side that was the true man. Losing his mother had been particularly hard on Danny. Like most sons, he was exceptionally close to her. Then the tragic death of his brother had really knocked him for six. He was still trying to deal with his grief. Although two years had passed since Joe's death, there were still moments when he'd forget that his brother was gone, and then the hurt would come flooding back as he remembered the reality. As he held his father's hand, the thought of losing him as well was almost too much to bear. He gritted his teeth, took a deep breath and quickly composed himself. There was an assassin on the loose and he was going to find him.

Almost as if fate was intervening, his cell phone rang. It was Lieutenant Chalmers. Danny cleared his throat before answering.

"I've got an address for you," Chalmers said, getting straight to the point.

"From Wong?" Danny enquired.

"Yeah. Might be a dead end but check it out. I've sending the address to Detective Flack and his team so co-ordinate between yourselves," Chalmers advised. "Any word on Frank?"

"I'm at the hospital right now. There's no change," Danny told him.

"Well, we're all rooting for him, Detective," Chalmers said a little awkwardly.

"I know, thanks," Danny replied, just as awkwardly.

Danny hung up and waited for the information to be sent to his cell. The address was in Chinatown. He leaned across and kissed his dad before leaving the room and calling Detective Flack.

"We're on our way there now," Flack told him.

"Good," Danny replied. "I'll meet you there."

Danny didn't bother to find his sister to tell her that he was leaving. He made a quick call to her as he was getting into his car to explain that he had a lead to follow. He called his partner to let her know that he was linking up with Don Flack and that he'd call her to let her know the outcome.

He made good time and got to the address quickly. By the time he got there, Detective Flack and his back-up had already gained access to the apartment, which was situated over a tobacco shop. To their disappointment, the apartment was empty. Flack had just finished interviewing the shop's owner, hoping to get a description of the tenant and to find out when he last saw him.

"It's a bust," Flack told Reagan when he arrived. "Apartment seems clean. Mac and the team are on their way to process it. They might find something."

"What about a name or description?" Danny asked.

"Owner said the guy paid cash in advance and gave his name as Chet Li Ping, but I doubt that's his real name," Flack told him.

"Yeah, not likely," Danny replied, turning and looking around the apartment despondently.

"We're waiting on a sketch artist; then at least we'll have a face," Don informed him.

Danny felt frustrated. He was sure this would give them a lead, but once more he was to be disappointed. Whoever this guy was, he was good. He was like a ghost in the city. But ghost or no ghost, Danny was determined to find him.

It was late morning and Erin Reagan stood outside her father's ICU at the request of his surgeons, who were doing their rounds. She watched anxiously through the glass wall as they read his chart and did some basic tests. One doctor updated his chart before turning and leaving the room. Erin pounced on him as he exited.

"So, how is he?" Erin asked eagerly.

"Ms. Reagan," the doctor said, acknowledging her. "Your father's condition remains critical. The good news is that his BP has stabilised through the night and his SATs are improving also. He has a long way to go, but he's doing as well as can be expected at this stage," he told her.

"He is? Thank God," Erin replied, her relief obvious.

"When will he wake up?" she wondered.

"That's hard to say. He's still under sedation. We'll consider lifting that maybe by tonight," he told her. "I'd like to see his SATs a bit better before I authorise that."

"I understand. Thank you, Doctor," Erin said as the doctor and his team continued on to their next patient.

The rest of the day passed slowly. Erin remained dutifully at her father's side. The rest of the family stopped by one after the other. Henry returned, accompanied by Jamie and took up residence in Frank's room. The Mayor and Assistant Commissioner both called by and met with family members but were not allowed to see Frank, as it was family only in the ICU.

Danny and Detective Flack continued with work on the case. Mac Taylor and the CSI's processed the apartment and were running facial recognition on the sketch of their suspect hoping to get a name. So far, luck was not on their side.

Unknown to them, their suspect was much closer than they realised. Billy Chen observed the activity around the hospital from a short distance away. He recognised Reagan family members as they arrived to visit the Commissioner. He noted the security around the area. He watched as reporters did stand-up reports to camera, live broadcasts, and accosted hospital staff, hoping someone would give them the scoop they craved. But his mission was not to get a scoop. His mission was to find a way in and out of the hospital unnoticed and to finish what he had started. Patience, he reminded himself as he stood across the street and observed. Patience.

**_A/N - hope that will keep you guys satisfied for a while. Fingers crossed my internet issue will be solved soon!_**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Erin Reagan smiled when she saw her daughter, Nicky, and Danny's wife, Linda, enter through the ICU doors. She left her father's side momentarily and ran to hug her daughter.

"Thanks for bringing her," Erin said to her sister-in-law.

"It's no problem. I left the boys with Jamie and Henry. I really wanted to see how Frank was doing for myself," Linda told her.

"How is he?" Nicky asked, trying to act mature and deal with the situation appropriately. However, inside she was a frightened little girl, terrified that she was going to lose her much adored grandfather.

"He's doing better," Erin told them. "The doctor was just with him and has decided to withhold the sedation. Hopefully, he should wake soon."

"That is good news," Linda said, linking Erin's arm as they walked towards the ICU room.

Linda walked towards her father-in-law's hospital bed and carefully leaned in and kissed his cheek. Nicky remained at her mother's side. The sight of the machines and tubes attached to her granddad upset her. She observed the paleness of his features. For such an imposing figure, he looked so small lying there beneath the crisp white sheet. It was so hard to see him like that. His towering presence and soft heart had always ensured her devotion to him. He was her superman and seeing him so ill was something she had never imagined.

Her mother must have read her thoughts because she placed a timely comforting arm around her daughter.

"The doctor said that he's doing much better than they expected, Nicky," Erin told her daughter.

"Really?" Nicky replied. "I never…..he looks so ill."

"I know, but he's strong. He's going to be fine. I just know he is," Erin told her.

"Of course he is," Linda echoed Erin's sentiment.

Nicky smiled at the two women and summoned the courage to approach her grandfather's bedside. She took hold of his hand and just stood there, fighting back her tears and silently willing him to get well.

Meanwhile, Don Flack and Danny Reagan stood outside the suspect's apartment while it was being processed by the CSIs. As they chat and theorised about the identity of their suspect, Mac Taylor unexpectedly walked out the door towards his car as if he was leaving the crime scene.

"Going somewhere, Mac?" Flack asked curiously.

"Got another call. A body's been found ten blocks north of here," Mac informed him. "Hawkes is meeting me there."

"Oh? Danny and Jo finishing up in there?" Don enquired.

"Yeah, shouldn't take much longer. There's not much to get excited about up there," Mac told the two detectives.

"Hey, Reagan, I'm going to tag along with Mac. Why don't you go get some rest? We'll call you if we get a result," Don said to Danny.

Danny Reagan's frustration was growing as each hour passed. It had been 36 hours since the attempt on his father's life. What annoyed him most was that they were no closer to finding the culprit. He watched as Flack left with Detective Taylor. He waited alone on the sidewalk for a while, contemplating what to do. He was so tired, he couldn't even think straight. He eventually decided to go back to the hospital to check on his dad. He knew Linda would be there. He thought that he'd get a ride home with her, knowing that he had to rest sometime.

At his second crime scene of the day, Mac Taylor knelt down beside the recently deceased victim. He was an Asian male, approximately 35 years old, dressed casually and lying partially covered by trash bags beside a dumpster. Flack and Taylor carefully removed a couple of bags from the deceased and were then able to see the cause of death, stabbed in the heart. Mac reached into the man's jeans pocket and extracted a wallet, which he opened and examined. He turned and showed the contents to Flack.

"He wasn't robbed. Cash is still in the wallet and his watch on his wrist," Mac observed.

He took out a credit card and read the name aloud.

"Charlie Tan."

"Probably local," Flack assumed. "I'll call it in. Might get an address."

Mac didn't respond. He was looking quizzically at marks on the victim's neck.

"Someone pulled something from around his neck," Mac said frankly.

Flack leaned in closer to see the mark that had attracted Mac's attention. Flack called in the victim's name and then the two continued to examine the scene until Sheldon Hawkes arrived. He recorded the scene and took care of the body, careful to preserve any evidence present before placing him in a body bag and dispatching him to the ME's office.

By the time he had finished, Flack received a call back from headquarters. They gave him details on the victim. Mac saw something in Flack's expression which told him there was cause for concern. Once Flack ended the call, Mac had to ask.

"What is it?"

"Might be just a coincidence, but Charlie Tan was a nurse in Mercy Hospital," Don told him.

"I don't believe in coincidences, Don," Mac said seriously. "Get Detective Reagan on the phone. Tell him to get back to the hospital. I'll get hold of hospital security. Let's go."

With that, Mac and Don hurried back to their Avalanche and with siren blaring sped towards Mercy Hospital, hoping they weren't too late.

Danny Reagan was in the lobby of the hospital when Flack called. He could tell by the urgency in his voice that something was wrong.

"Hey, what's going on?" he asked.

"Our DB was a male nurse at Mercy," Flack told him. "His hospital ID wasn't on him. Could be our shooter trying to gain access to your father. Where are you?"

"I'm on my way up to see him now," Danny told him.

"Good," Flack replied. "Stay with him. Don't let anyone in. We're on our way."

Danny hung up the phone and hurried towards the elevator, his urgency evident in his steps. He waited impatiently for the elevator to arrive. When it did, he punched the floor button and the doors closed. By the time they opened on the fourth floor, his anxiety was even greater. He ran from the elevator, through the double doors of the ICU suite, passed the guard and into his father's room. He was greeted by surprised looks from his sister, wife and niece.

"Danny?" Linda said, waiting for an explanation for the suddenness of his arrival.

"Hey, Babe," he said, giving her a quick peck on the cheek and trying to appear nonchalant

The last thing he wanted to do was to worry his family or frighten his niece. He caught Erin's glare through the corner of his eye and knew he was busted.

"So, any change?" he asked, attempting to deflect her suspicious glare.

"They're holding the sedation, so he should be waking up soon," Nicky told him. She just oozed relief.

"That's great," Danny said, not sounding at all convinced. "Eh, Erin, can I have a word outside?"

His sister looked inquisitively at him. She knew that there was something going on. Her instincts were usually correct. She smiled at Linda and Nicky and then followed her brother out to the nurse's station.

"What's going on?" she asked directly.

"I got a call from Detective Flack. They found a body of a nurse from this hospital. They think the guy who tried to kill Dad is on his way to finish the job," he told her bluntly.

He watched as her expression changed from curiosity to horror. He gave her a few seconds to digest the news. He told her about the nurse's body being found and Detective Taylor's suspicions.

"What are we going to do? I mean do you have any idea what he looks like? Is it a he or a she? How do we stop him?" she asked. She had so many questions.

"As far as I know he was a male nurse. The ID he took was for a male, so I think it's safe to say the shooter is a guy. The picture the lab tech took from security footage was a man," Danny surmised. "Flack has reinforcements coming to the hospital. Security has been alerted. I need you to take Linda and Nicky home. It would be safer for everyone if you're not here."

Erin nodded. She understood the danger and the importance of risk assessment in stressful situations.

"Okay," Erin replied, nodding her head. "You make sure and stop this guy."

"Don't worry. He's not getting out of here," Danny replied confidently.

"Be careful," she said, hugging her brother.

The two siblings returned to their father's ICU room. They gave an unconvincing explanation to Nicky and Linda about security concerns and that until they were settled; the powers that be had asked the family to leave. Linda exchanged questioning glances with her husband, who tried to set her at ease. She too could sense that there was more going on but knew better than to ask her husband about his work. She bid him farewell and her kiss was accompanied by a whispered plea of "be careful".

Once they had left, Danny told the guard at the door that no hospital staff was to be allowed into his father's room without their ID being verified.

Downstairs, Detectives Flack and Taylor had arrived. Their first stop was to the Human Resources Department. From there staff was able to ascertain that Charlie Tan's medical ID had already been swiped on the ground floor and that he had gained access to an authorized personnel area. Of course, Mac and Don new that Charlie Tan was lying dead in the back of the ME's truck on his way to the morgue. Mac asked what was in the area that his impersonator had accessed. The HR manager told him that it was only the staff locker room. However, she also told the detectives that from there he could have access to most of the hospital without having to use his card. There were only a handful of areas where access cards were required to gain entry.

Mac frowned. That wasn't going to make their job any easier. He could be anywhere. He asked if they could view security footage from around the time that Charlie Tan allegedly entered the building. The HR manager directed them to the security office and staff there quickly made the footage available to the detectives. They scrutinized the face of each person who entered the building. Dozens of people came and went. Then one person caught Mac's eye.

"There!" he exclaimed.

"Is that him?" Flack asked.

"I don't know. There's just something not right. Do you see it? He entered here, paused as if trying to find his bearings, yet keeping his head down, hoping not to be noticed," Mac pointed out.

"Yeah," Flack responded. "He's Asian….looks similar to our perp from the alley," he said, referring to the video still that Adam Ross had provided to them.

"See how he hesitates before eventually finding the staff entrance," Mac noted. "Okay, we know he's in the building and we know where he's going, so let's find him. Make sure Reagan has a picture of our suspect. Be vigilant. We know this guy is an accomplished killer."

"Sure thing, Mac."

"Mr. Lenkov, I want you to get your guys to carry out a floor-to-floor sweep. Get our suspect's description to your men. If they find him, just radio his position to us. Don't approach him. He's armed and dangerous," Mac warned the head of hospital security.

Lenkov took Mac's words seriously and radioed to all his staff a description of their suspect. Mac remained with Lenkov, hoping to get details of the locations of security cameras on all floors. He was disappointed to learn that there were only cameras on the entrance, in the ER waiting room, in elevators and very few on the corridors. This wasn't going to be as easy as he had hoped.

Meanwhile, two floors above him, their suspect had managed to gain access to a storage room which held, among other things, a fully stocked crash cart. He helped himself to a handful of vials of adrenaline, lidocaine and other medications. He shoved a couple of empty syringes into his pocket. As he emerged from the room, he noticed a security guard checking a male nurse's ID. He instantly changed direction and knew he would have to adapt his plan. He walked back down the corridor, glancing into each room as he did so. He came to a room that was empty. He presumed that the patient was gone for tests or something because all his belongings were still in the room. He rummaged through a sports bag. It contained some male clothing, bed wear and underwear. He checked the adjoining bathroom. There he found a bag with toiletries. He looked at the razor inside and knew what he was going to do.

He wet his hair and slowly started to shave it off. As his hair was already quite short, it was simple enough to do. It took some time but he grinned at his reflection in the mirror when he was finished. He was bald as a coot. Now all he needed was some slippers, a hospital gown and he would pass for a cancer patient. They would never suspect a cancer patient. He got to work locating the items he needed. Leaving the room, he carefully wandered the corridor. He helped himself to an IV stand that was not in use on the corridor and a bag of saline from another room. He used some sticky tape to attach the line to his arm. He looked every bit the part of a very ill patient.

Next step was getting to the floor where the Commissioner was. He shuffled to the elevator. A sign inside the elevator informed him that the ICU was a further two floors above. He pressed four, turned his back so that only his bald head was visible to the camera. He glanced around as he exited on the fourth floor. Unconsciously, he checked that he had his weapons. He took a deep cleansing breath before continuing on.

He shuffled through the external waiting area which was situated outside the sliding double doors of the ICU. He peered through the glass doors, hoping to see find his ultimate destination. That was when he saw the uniformed officer standing outside one of the rooms. There it was. He knew that he would have to eliminate that obstacle first. Easily done, he thought. Knife or syringe, he mused as he felt inside his pockets. It has to be quick and quiet. He waited patiently, watching from outside until the nurse stationed at the reception desk was called away. Then he'd make his move.

_**A/N - again sorry for the delays in posting. Still having problems with internet access. Sigh**_!


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Danny anxiously paced his father's hospital room. Every few seconds he checked outside through the glass walls of the room. It was quiet out there. He could see one nurse standing at the nurse's station. He could see no other staff. He took out his cell phone to check for messages...nothing. It was warm in the small room. Realising that he was perspiring, he removed his jacket in an effort to cool down. He felt for his sidearm, drawing comfort from the cool metal. He continued pacing.

Unknown to Danny, the veil of sedation was finally lifting for Frank. His eyelids felt so heavy. He just wanted to sleep but instinct told him to wake. He could hear a steady beeping to his left and wondered what it was. His throat was dry and he tried to swallow before realising that he couldn't. There was something in his mouth. It was uncomfortable and he immediately wanted it out. He tried to lift his hand to his mouth but his arms felt like lead. He hadn't the strength to lift them. Again he tried to open his eyes, this time with a little more success. Through the slits poured bright light, which at first stung his eyes. He groaned and closed them quickly. Then he tried once more. This time he saw a figure in the room. His vision was blurred and he couldn't be sure who it was.

Danny's attention was drawn back to his father. There was something different. At first he wasn't sure what it was, then as he approached, he realised that a pair of unfocussed brown eyes were following him.

"Dad?" he said, quickening his pace.

Frank's breathing had changed and Danny could see that he was gagging on the ventilator tube that remained in his throat. He could see that his father was becoming distressed.

"Don't fight the tube, Dad. Try and breathe normally and I'll go get the nurse," Danny told him as he quickly moved towards the door. He stuck his head out and said to the guard. "Hurry and get the nurse. He's waking up."

The guard did as he was asked and headed towards the nurse's station. However, the nurse was no longer there, so he checked the other rooms before hurrying down the corridor to find someone.

Danny returned his attention to his father. He took hold of his hand and tried to comfort him. Their eyes met and they shared an emotional father/son moment, a moment where they could both feel the other's fears. Danny's eyes brimmed with tears. The last couple of days had been an emotional rollercoaster for the young detective. His father sensed this and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. The lingering effects of the sedatives were threatening to pull him back into the solace of slumber, but he fought to stay awake for his son's sake.

He watched as Danny turned suddenly towards the door and a look of confusion spread across his face. From the position in which he lay, Frank couldn't see who was there. Danny released his grip on his hand and walked towards whoever it was.

He was surprised to see another patient standing in the doorway. From his appearance, Danny assumed that the man was a cancer patient and didn't want to be rude but didn't want him in his father's room either. There was still a security issue, so he didn't want anyone who shouldn't be there to get caught up in it. He produced his NYPD badge and showed it to the feeble-looking man in the hospital gown.

"Sorry, Sir, but you'll have to move on," he told him in as sympathetic a manner as he could.

The man outside raised his head slightly and stumbled through the door, much to Danny's surprise. Danny reacted and naturally reached out to catch the patient. But as he did so, he suddenly felt pain followed by a startling force of strength as the patient forced him back into the room. Danny was caught off guard and thrown backwards against a side wall. He hit it hard and slid down to the floor. He tried to put his legs back under him to stand up, but an unexpected weakness overcame him. He looked up with startled eyes at his attacker, who reached down and calmly took his weapon. Having neutralised any threat from Danny, the attacker turned his back on him and started towards Frank. Danny again tried to get to his feet but felt as weak as a kitten and didn't know why. He looked down at his useless body and only then noticed the handle of a hunting knife protruding from his midriff. Confusion washed over him. The room started to spin and he could taste blood in his mouth. He was sure he was going to pass out, but knew that if he did, both he and his father were dead.

"Stop!" he yelled as loudly as he could, hoping to attract someone's attention. His voice emerged barely louder than a whisper.

The assassin didn't even acknowledge him. He looked at the Commissioner, who helplessly glared at him from his ICU bed. Frank had watched in horror as his son was slammed against the wall and fell to the ground. He didn't see that his son had been stabbed and wondered why he hadn't put up more of a resistance. He tried to see his son, but from his prone position, his line of sight was limited. He watched as the man with the Asian eyes stood menacingly over him. Frank knew why he was there. It was time to acknowledge his fate. His time was up. There was no use fighting it.

"You should have died the first time, Commissioner," Chen said heartlessly.

He unhooked Frank's breathing tube from the ventilator. Then he took out one if the syringes from his pocket. He was unsheathing it when he was distracted by a teenage girl running towards the room.

"Sorry, Uncle Danny, I forgot my cell…" Nicky said as she rushed in.

She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw her uncle slumped against the wall, a knife in his abdomen and blood soaking his shirt. There was a strange-looking bald man in a hospital robe standing over her grandpa, holding a syringe. She was rooted to the spot. She tried to scream but nothing came out. Chen turned and smiled at her and reached for Danny's gun, which he had left down on the bed beside Frank.

Danny, helpless through injury, summoned all his strength and managed to roar,

"Run, Nicky! Run!"

The venom of his voice startled her and propelled her to run as fast as she could away from the nightmare scene. Chen raised the gun and took aim but then hesitated, knowing that an unsilenced shot would attract too much attention. He had to work fast. His eyes paused momentarily on the bleeding detective, and he allowed himself a wry smile. Time to finish this.

However, he was unaware that that the fleeing teenager had just run smack bang into Detective Mac Taylor, who was exiting the emergency stairwell. He and one of the hospital security officers had been checking the stairwells and sweeping each floor for their suspect. He was more than a little surprised to be hit by the distraught youngster.

"Woah," he said, stepping back. "Are you okay, Miss?"

"You've got to help them. He's stabbed my uncle. Please, help him," Nicky pleaded.

"Who?"

"I don't know. A bald guy; he has a gun," she told them.

Mac exchanged glances with the security officer and told him to call for back up and to look after the girl. Mac unsheathed his weapon and started carefully down the corridor towards the ICU cubicles. He only met one or two people on the corridor and directed them away from danger. He carefully approached the rooms. He could see through the glass walls which rooms were occupied. Then he saw his suspect a couple of doors away. With great stealth he continued unnoticed towards the room. That was until the suspect turned as he approached the door. Like lightening the suspect raised his weapon and hurried to one side of the room. There he remained, waiting for Mac.

As Mac reached the open door, he could see why the suspect had chosen to stay. He had a hostage. He stood boldly beside the semi-conscious form of Danny Reagan and held his weapon to his temple. He turned to Detective Taylor and calmly ordered him to step away from the door. Naturally, Mac hesitated. He could hear the alarms going off at the Commissioner's bed side. A code team was rushing towards the room until they saw what was going on. Taylor raised his hand to signal them not to get any closer.

"I'm walking out of here and he's coming with me," Chen told Mac calmly. "Anyone tries to follow me, I'll blow his head off."

From his demeanour, Mac was left in no doubt that he meant what he said. The assassin hauled the injured detective to his feet, putting his arm around his neck to keep him upright. He kept the pistol at his head and used his body as a shield. Mac didn't want to let him out, but he knew that the only way to help the commissioner was to clear the room and get the medical staff in there. So he made the decision quickly and stepped back from the door, re-holstering his weapon and raising his hands.

Chen watched the detective very closely. He struggled to keep Danny on his feet and had to poke him with the gun several times to stop him from passing out. He backed away carefully, eyes all the time on Detective Taylor, and continued towards the elevator. All the while, Mac watched closely, keeping his hands in the air all the time. When he saw the elevator door close, he motioned the crash team into the now vacant room and they quickly got to work on the Commissioner.

Mac called Flack and told him that Chen was on the elevator and that he had a hostage. Flack ordered all security guards to watch the elevators on all the floors so they could see where he emerged. They received strict instructions, however, not to engage him, as he had a hostage. Mac watched for a short time as the medical staff continued in their attempt to revive the Police Commissioner. It didn't look good, he thought, as he turned away and ran back towards the stairwell.

Nicky looked at him with wide, bloodshot eyes, expecting good news. Mac found it difficult to meet her gaze.

"Did you get him? How's my uncle?" Nicky asked desperately.

"He got away," Mac told her, deliberately not elaborating at that stage. "Officer, you take her to find her mom. I gotta go," he said, hurrying down the stairs.

The security officer looked with pity on the terrified teenager.

"Come on," he said with a kind smile. "Let's find her."

Nicky sniffled, then nodded in agreement. The two descended the stairs towards the parking lot where Erin and Linda were waiting on her.

**_A/N - thanks for your patience guys. Sorry to leave you with a cliffie. Hope to get the next chapter to you ASAP._**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Billy Chen watched nervously as the illuminated numbers on the elevator descended to basement level. Danny Reagan's hands hung limply by his side. He was drooping and threatening to slip from Chen's grasp. The knife was still grotesquely protruding from just below his rib cage. Just before the elevator doors opened, Chen pulled Danny back upright by his neck, which drew a pitiful groan. Danny was hovering in no-man's-land, between consciousness and unconsciousness. He was barely aware of what was going on.

Chen realised he needed a plan. Things hadn't gone as well as he had hoped. He had planned a clean getaway after finishing off the Commissioner, but his plan had gone south. Now it was time to improvise. He hated not being in control but at least he had a bargaining chip. No one would risk anything while he had the Commissioner's son. The elevator doors opened and Chen heaved Danny as far as the door. He peered around the seemingly deserted parking garage, checking for danger. It appeared clear. He needed to find a vehicle. But first he needed to jam the elevator door open so no one could follow. He reached and grabbed a trash can, positioning it between the elevator doors. He needed to block the stairwell door as well. With the butt of his gun he smashed a glass box containing a fire axe and used this to wedge the door shut.

Checking around the area once more, he hauled Danny over to one of the cars. Keys would be good right about now, he thought. He had no choice though. He was preparing to smash a car's window when something across the lot caught his eye. He smiled at his good fortune.

Erin Reagan-Boyle stepped back out of her car and stood impatiently, leaning on the roof and looking over towards the elevator, hoping to see her daughter, Nicky, returning. She was anxious because she knew from Danny's earlier behaviour that something was going on. She could have killed Nicky before when she returned to the car and then announced that she had left her cell phone in her grandfather's room. She was out of the car and back in the elevator before Erin could stop her. She had been gone longer than anticipated. What the hell was keeping her, Erin wondered.

Erin strained to see the elevator from where she was parked. It looked to her like the doors of the elevator were open and had been for some time now. She looked around and thought she saw someone close by but then lost sight of them.

"I might just go and see where she is," Erin said to Linda, who was sitting in the passenger seat.

"Okay. I'll call Danny and see if she's still up there," Linda offered. "I tell him to send her down."

"Thanks," Erin said, looking back towards the elevator again. This time she was convinced that it was definitely open.

"Looks like the lift's stuck," Erin said, leaning in to Linda. "Maybe that's what's holding her up. I'm going to check it out."

Linda nodded. She listened as Danny's phone rang several times before going to voice mail. Sitting in the car, Linda wasn't overly concerned that her husband wasn't answering his cell. She had grown accustomed to missed calls and voice mail conversations. She had long since learned that it was all part and parcel of being a cop's wife. She left a brief message and hung up and tried once more.

But as Erin made her way toward the elevator, the shrill ring tone of a cell phone startled her. It appeared to be coming from the direction of some cars to her right, but she couldn't see anyone. She thought she recognised the ringtone as that of her brother, but she convinced herself that hundreds of people would have the same ringtone. Her gut, however, told her that something was wrong. She quickened her pace but was stopped dead in her tracks when a bald, Asian man wearing a robe stepped out from behind a concrete pillar. To her surprise, he was holding a gun. Even more shocking was the sight of her wounded brother being held in a chokehold. Instinctually, something told her to hide her recognition of him.

"Give me your keys, lady, and I won't hurt you," Chen said ominously.

"Okay," she replied, her voice shaking. "Please don't hurt me," she pleaded, backing away slightly.

"Keys, now!" he shouted, waving the gun in her direction.

"Okay, okay."

Erin reached into her purse. She felt the keys. She also felt the cold barrel of her .38 pistol. Her father had insisted that she carry a weapon, especially because of the job she did and the scum she dealt with in pursuit of the same job. She looked at her brother. She could see he was in a bad way. His head hung forward listless. She couldn't even tell if he was breathing. To her it appeared that the gunman's neck-hold was the only thing stopping him from hitting the ground.

She took out the keys. Slowly she extended her hand to Chen. He looked at her and then at the keys. If he was to take them, he would have to drop Reagan. Without hesitation, he did just that. Danny hit the ground like a sack of potatoes. Erin flinched as Chen snatched the keys from her.

"Which car?" he demanded.

"Black Lexus," Erin told him. "Over there," she said, pointing to her car.

Chen turned and ran towards the car. Erin reached into her purse and took out her pistol. Suddenly, a loud pounding and shouting came from the stairwell. Chen turned around only to see Erin standing in a convincing shooting stance, her weapon aimed at him. To her surprise, he smiled at her. It was all starting to make sense to Erin. This was the guy who had tried to kill her father. Lord knows he may have also killed her brother. He had no right to smile. He raised his arm in which he held Danny's weapon. It was all the excuse Erin needed. She reacted quickly and decisively. She fired three rounds and hit him in the torso with all three. He didn't even manage to get a shot off. With a look of shock across his face, he fell to the ground mortally wounded.

The resonance of the shots alarmed Linda, who immediately jumped out of the car to see what was going on. She saw Erin across the parking lot, looking shocked.

"What was that?" Linda shouted to her.

"Linda, get over here. I need you," Erin yelled, the panic in her voice obvious.

With that Erin ducked down and disappeared behind a car. Linda ran over, past a dead body and was horrified by the sight that greeted her: her sister-in-law leaning over the prone figure of her husband.

"Oh my God, Danny?"

She dropped to her knees and lifted her unconscious husband's head onto her lap. She couldn't take her eyes off the large knife handle protruding from his stomach.

"Help! We need help in here," she yelled, panic-stricken, as her husband's head lolled lifelessly in her arms.

Pounding and shouting continued from the stairwell door. Erin ran over and quickly unblocked it. Mac Taylor, Don Flack and several uniformed police officers emerged, weapons drawn, prepared for anything.

"I heard shots. Are you alright?" Mac asked the trembling woman before him.

Erin just nodded and handed him her gun. Mac surveyed the scene in front of him. To his left he saw Linda Reagan cradling her injured husband. Further up the parking lot a body lay in a pool of blood. He turned to one of the uniformed officers.

"Get EMT's down here now!"

He approached Linda, who was sobbing and talking to her unconscious husband. She looked up with pleading eyes.

"Help him, please."

"Help is on its way," he said, reaching down to check Danny's pulse.

He was relieved to find that it was there and relatively steady.

"This one's dead, Mac," Don Flack called over from where Chen lay. He recognised the victim as their suspect in the shooting of the Commissioner. He checked his pockets but found no ID.

Erin stood in shock, looking at the man she had killed as police officers and hospital security swarmed around the area. Her brother was hurt, her sister-in-law distraught and she had just killed a man, but all she could think of was her daughter. Where was Nicky? Erin pushed passed officers, through the stairwell door and into the stairwell. Panic-stricken, she climbed the stairs two steps at a time. Half way between the first and second floor she bumped into a hospital security officer who was descending. A voice from behind him stunned her.

"Mom?"

"Nicky? Oh Nicky, thank God! Are you okay?" Erin asked as she hugged her daughter tightly.

"I'm fine. But someone hurt Uncle Danny," Nicky told her.

"I know baby, I know. But you're okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, Mom," Nicky replied, finding comfort in her mother's arms. "We've got to help Danny!"

"He's being looked after," Erin reassured her.

She wondered how Nicky knew Danny was hurt. She had to ask her daughter, who then told her everything that she had witnessed. Erin was horrified to discover what her daughter had just been through. The man she had shot had been in her father's room and had threatened her daughter. Then it hit her. Her concern immediately turned to her father.

"Dad," she said, looking at her daughter.

The two charged up several flights of stairs to the fourth floor. They got to the Commissioner's room and found it a hive of activity. Erin asked Nicky to wait outside and hurried into the room.

"What happened?" she asked, the question not directed at anyone in particular.

One doctor who recognised her approached her.

"He suffered a cardiac arrest but we've managed to get his heart started again. He's breathing spontaneously and was conscious for a while but became very distressed, so we sedated him," he explained.

"Will he be alright?" she asked tearfully.

"He could have done without this stress," the doctor said seriously. "He's still very ill. We'll have to keep a close eye on his BP. It's still elevated but within acceptable limits. Our efforts don't seem to have re-opened any wounds and so far no signs of internal bleeding. When he wakes, try and keep him calm. Despite this setback, I am hopeful that he'll make a full recovery."

"Thank you," Erin said, walking towards her sleeping father.

She turned and beckoned her daughter inside.

"How is he?" Nicky asked anxiously.

"He's okay. It was close but they think he's going to be okay," she said, looking into her daughter's eyes. They both hugged and cried tears of relief.

Downstairs, her brother was being rushed to the ER with his distraught wife by his side. Detectives Flack and Taylor remained in the parking garage. They were securing the scene until their colleagues arrived to process the scene. Erin decided that it was time to call her younger brother and grandfather and get them back to the hospital. She asked Nicky to stay with her father so she could make the call and go to the ER to check on Danny's condition.

She made a very emotional call to Jamie and told him of everything that had happened. He was shocked and angry that more hadn't been done to protect his father. Naturally, while relieved to hear that Frank was stable, he was hugely worried about his brother. He promised Erin that he was on his way over to the hospital.

Erin took the elevator down to the ground floor and searched for her brother. She found her sister-in-law waiting outside a Trauma Room, visibly upset and being comforted by a female police officer. As soon as she saw Erin, she got to her feet. Erin hurried to her and gave her a comforting hug.

"Did they say anything?" Erin enquired.

"Not much. They're trying to stabilize him for surgery," she told her calmly.

"Don't worry, Linda. Danny's tough. He'll be okay," Erin said, trying to offer some reassurance.

"I hope so, Erin," Linda sighed. "Did you find Nicky?"

"She's fine. I left her with Dad," Erin told her, deliberately not going into the detail of the second attempt on Frank's life. She had enough to worry about. "I called Jamie. He's on his way. The boys are fine. Your neighbour, Jessica, said she's look after them for a while."

"Thanks, Erin. What will I tell them? What if he doesn't…," she was about to say 'make it', but thought the better of it. It didn't bear thinking about.

Erin took Linda by both hands and looked straight into her eyes.

"Don't even go there," she told her with determination. "I know my brother and he's not going to leave us."

She heard herself saying the words and desperately wanted to believe them. She guided Linda back to a row of seating and they both sat and waited. It wasn't long before the trauma team exited the Trauma Room with their patient. A member of the team came over to inform his wife that they were taking him to surgery and that she could wait on the surgical floor. It was something Erin was all too familiar with, having gone through it only days previously.

Both ladies followed and prepared for another agonising wait.

**_Thanks for all your reviews folks. Final chapter will be up asap!_**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N - as this is the final chapter, I would like to thank all who have read and commented on the story. Special thanks to DianeM, my super beta.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. They belong to the lucky sods at CBS.**

**Chapter 12.**

"We are getting unconfirmed reports that there has been another attempt made on Police Commissioner Frank Reagan's life. We go live to our reporter, Tammy Webb, outside Mercy Hospital. Hi Tammy, what can you tell us?"

"Well, Tom, we have been unable to confirm this as yet, but a source at the hospital has informed me that a second attempt was made to assassinate Commissioner Reagan this afternoon. We understand that this attempt was unsuccessful. The Commissioner remains in a critical condition, as he has done, since the shooting last Tuesday. However, there are also unconfirmed reports of an incident in the parking structure of the hospital. We are not sure, at this point, if it was related to the attempt on the Commissioner, but there is a noticeably more pronounced police presence around the hospital and Crime Scene Investigators have been seen arriving. Eyewitnesses say that at least one person has been killed and a police officer injured. We are waiting on an official statement from the hospital, which they inform us will be within the next hour. Back to you, Tom."

"Thanks, Tammy. We will bring you more on this breaking news story as soon as information becomes available."

Nicky sat patiently beside her grandfather's bedside, nervously awaiting the return of her mother. She was trying to be strong, trying to be mature, but she had just survived one of the most terrifying encounters of her young life. All she really wanted was her mom. She sat staring over at the blood-stained floor where she had last seen her uncle so horribly wounded.

As her mind wandered to what could've been, she was jerked back to reality by her grandfather's hand slowly reaching for hers. She stood up and leaned across towards him.

"Grandpa?" she said, hesitantly.

Slowly Frank's eyes opened and he summoned a weak smile for his granddaughter. He felt a little more comfortable now that they had removed the ventilator tube from his throat. He swallowed, trying to moisten his throat and mouth.

"Hey," he whispered.

"Hey, yourself," Nicky said, delighted that he was conscious. "Thank God you're okay. I was so worried," she gushed.

"Am…fine," he replied, understandably weak. "Danny?" he asked, having recalled some of what had happened earlier.

Nicky hesitated, deliberately not wanting to upset her granddad. Frank could read the fear in the teenager's eyes and immediately feared the worst.

"Oh, God," he uttered, turning his face away from hers.

Nicky immediately sensed his grief and interjected,

"No, Grandpa, he's not dead but that guy hurt him. He stabbed him. Mom called me to say that he's in surgery. She's with Linda, keeping her company," Nicky told him emotionally.

Frank closed his eyes and allowed the relief to wash over him. He was tired, so tired. When he next opened his eyes a couple of hours later, the room was a little more crowded. His father, his youngest son and Nicky were there. They were all so grateful that he was conscious and showing signs of improvement.

All that concerned Frank was Danny.

The investigation into the shooting at One Police Plaza was going places at last. Billy Chen's body was removed to the Coroner's Office and his possessions were being examined by Mac Taylor's team at the Crime Lab. They found a number in Chen's cell phone that connected him to Chin Fat Lee. It wasn't much but it was a start. Mac Taylor was hopeful that with that evidence and the undercover cop's assistance, they would be able to build a strong enough case to indict him.

Erin Reagan-Boyle found herself sitting in the same spot where only days ago she agonised, praying her father would survive the attempt on his life. Now she was trying to put her own grave concerns aside and be positive for the sake of her traumatized sister-in-law. The thought of her brother fighting for his life beyond the swinging doors of the OR in front of her, terrified her. He had been in there for over two hours now. He had to be okay, he just had to.

She and Linda sat together, sometimes holding hands, each depending on the other to get through this. Nicky had called her earlier and told her that Frank had woken up briefly. She found some comfort knowing that her father was recovering. She looked down at the floor and gave silent thanks. Just then Linda elbowed her gently. Erin raised her head and saw a surgeon approaching them. She bit her lip and tried to prepare for whatever news he brought.

"Mrs. Reagan?"

"Yes," Linda replied eagerly.

"Your husband is in recovery. We carried out an emergency laparotomy. The blade nicked Danny's liver and he was bleeding internally. We successfully removed the knife and repaired the liver. He's going to be fine," the doctor told her, smiling as he did so.

"Fine? He's going to be okay?" Linda repeated, hardly able to believe it. "Oh, thank you. Thank you," she gushed, throwing her arms around the surprised surgeon and then around her sister-in-law.

"Can we see him?" Erin asked.

"Absolutely," the doctor said, turning in the direction of the recovery rooms. "He's still pretty groggy from the anaesthesia."

The two women didn't care. Any way would be better than how they had last seen him, being wheeled into surgery, unconscious, knife protruding from his abdomen. They followed keenly, anxious to see him.

He was lying, slightly elevated in the bed, looking deathly pale but better than he had before. Linda rushed to his bedside and kissed his cheek softly. Feeling her touch, Danny opened his eyes drowsily.

"Hey, Babe," he croaked hoarsely.

"Hey, yourself," Linda replied, kissing him once more, this time on the lips.

Danny looked over to his sister, who stood back, not wanting to intrude on an intimate moment between a husband and wife. Danny spotted her and beckoned her over.

"Erin," Danny said, swallowing uncomfortably. "Dad…..is he…?

"The doctor said he should be okay. Nicky's with him at the moment. He's more worried about you," she told him.

Danny smiled at the notion. He could barely keep his eyes open. He rested his hand on Linda's and closed his eyes.

Two months later, Commissioner Frank Reagan stood looking out over the city of New York from the lofty heights of his office. He inhaled a deep, cleansing breath and felt a slight twinge in his ribs, a reminder of the life-threatening injury he had received so recently. It was a beautiful, crisp winter's day. Frost glistened on the sidewalks and patterned window panes. In the stillness, the morning sun threatened to erase the purity of the scene.

Frank had found a new respect for life. It was his first day back at the office since the shooting. He remembered most of that fateful day. He remembered Karl, his fallen friend. He regretted not being at his funeral service but had made contact with his widow when he was well enough to do so. He would never forget the remarkable sacrifice Karl had made. He gave thanks that everyone else injured that day had recovered. His son, Danny had made a remarkably quick recovery from his wound and was back at his desk a couple of weeks later.

His daughter, Erin, was still coming to terms with taking a man's life. She was attending counselling on her father's and brother's advice. There was an investigation into the circumstances of the shooting, but Erin was exonerated and the shooting was declared self-defence. The district attorney found that there were no charges to be answered. Her office was now working on the charges that were to be brought against Chin Fat Lee. Frank wondered if she would have to testify.

A knock on the door snapped Frank out of his daydream. He turned to see a familiar smiling face entering, arms full of files.

"Welcome back, Sir," Detective Baker said, as proficient as ever. She was relieved to have him back after all that had happened. He had been so understanding and went out of his way to make sure that she knew that she was not responsible for what had transpired that day.

He stood tall and smiled kindly at her.

"It's good to be back, Baker."

**THE END**


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